Tokyo Knight
by Dumas1
Summary: A new Gatekeeper's in town, with a rather odd Gate. Invaders, knights, zombies, and more! Enjoy and tell me what you think! Don't hold your breath waiting on another chapter, though.
1. Stillness

Tokyo Knight

Disclaimer: I don't own Gatekeepers 21 or any of the characters from it. I've just borrowed them for a time. They actually belong to Studio Gonzo.

Part I: Stillness

A couple sat under a tall oak, gazing at the stars above. The man was in his mid-thirties, with close-cropped black hair and dark, piercing eyes. The woman was perhaps a few years younger, with long blond hair and blue eyes. The man's suit jacket hung open, revealing the butt of a silver-trimmed black handgun. The woman's coat lay on the ground and an ivory-handled silver pistol with ebony trim gleamed in a shoulder holster.

'I still don't understand why the Company transferred us to Osaka. It was bad enough bouncing us around the States, but at least I could afford a decent steak there.' The woman had a gentle voice with a hint of steel underneath. Her companion sighed and turned to her.

'Do we have to talk about this now? We've gone over this before. We're the only agents available who know Japanese. All the rest had already been assigned to other clients. Just be glad you don't have a soy or rice allergy. Who're you? What do you want?' What seemed to be a slim man wearing a long beige trenchcoat had materialized at the foot of the hill and was walking towards them. A broad-brimmed hat concealed its face. As it approached, the couple saw that the newcomer was wearing dark sunglasses and gloves; its skin was the colour of granite. When it spoke, its voice was hollow, inhuman.

'Come to our world.'

The man replied lazily, 'I like this one just fine, thanks. Go bug someone else.'

'Come to our world.'

'I said we're not interested.'

'Then I'll take you there!' Masses of black tentacles shot out from the being's eyes towards the couple. A shot rang out before they were halfway to their targets. The 'man in black (well, beige)' fell with half its head missing. There was no blood. A moment later, the body evaporated, leaving a many-pointed pink crystal star. It glowed faintly. The woman picked it up. 

'How pretty.' The man was looking around for more possible threats, his gun still smoking.

'Come to our world. Come to our world. Come..' A phalanx of the trenchcoated beings was advancing up the hill.

'Damn! We're surrounded and there're too many to kill. At least we're going out together.' The man kissed his wife one last time and unloaded his gun at the front rank. A dozen bodies fell to the ground. The woman took down twelve more on the other side of the ring. They reloaded.

'Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Des-...' Chanting, their attackers halted and pulled back their trenchcoats to reveal bristling gun barrels. They fired.

'What the hell?!' Pink rings of light struck the man and woman, exploding on impact. The 'men' departed in silence, leaving scorched earth, charred splinters, and the smell of burning flesh. About ten minutes later, a fire engine and several police cars pulled up.

My parents died the summer before my junior year of high school. They'd just been transferred to Osaka, and they'd decided to go out and have some fun, just the two of them. I'd stayed in the hotel room and tried to watch tv, but it only had ridiculous game shows and worse soap operas. I gave up and picked up my copy of the _Iliad_ instead. The call came around midnight. The cop said they'd died in a freak gas main explosion. The fingerprints on their guns were all that identified them.

I don't know how long I cried, or when I finally fell asleep, but the sun had risen by the time I woke up. My practical side had kicked in; I felt hollow inside, but I had things to do before I could grieve. I had an uncle in Tokyo–my dad's younger brother–I could probably stay with him until something more permanent could be set up. Our rooms were paid up for the rest of the week, with meals, and the hotel did not give refunds. We had enough in traveler's checks and cash for a train ticket and to tide me over for a week ('Life moves on, so move with it,' they always said). I called my uncle to tell him about my parents' deaths. He invited me to stay as long as I needed to. I went out after hanging up.

My first stop was the police station where the bodies (what was left of them, anyway) had been taken. There was no criminal investigation, so an officer handed their personal effects over to me–their guns, holsters, ammo, and wedding rings were all that survived. He asked me if I wanted to see the bodies. I nodded. All that was left were fragments of charred bone and a few lumps of scorched flesh.

'What do you want to do with the bodies?'

'I'll be back with an urn.' He gave me the address of a mortuary on the other side of town–he'd used it for his mother a few years back. I strapped the guns on in a restroom on my way out.

I stopped by a bank first to trade the travelers' checks for cash ('Money talks, but make sure you're speaking the right language,' was my dad's advice for traveling)–about six thousand's worth, American. Another thousand or so already in cash. It made me a bit nervous, carrying that much money on me, but the guns' weight under my jacket was reassuring. My parents had been teaching me to shoot since I was twelve and I was pretty good (Their most important lesson: 'Never draw if you don't mean to kill.').

The mortuary owner offered her condolences with the air of one familiar with grief and how to ease it. She expressed surprise at my request for an urn without a cremation. Then she noticed my resemblance to my father's picture in the news.

She tried to gouge me outrageously at first–I'd had to flash some cash to get service–counting on my youth and grief to make me an easy mark: asking the equivalent of three thousand, US, for a plain white urn too small for a squirrel. It looked like a chamber pot. An hour later, I laid down fifteen hundred for a decent-sized blue and gold one. I returned to the morgue, gathered what I could of my parents' bones, and asked the police to dispose of the rest. The officer who had shown me the bodies told me that their lawyer would contact me that night.

He called at 2 AM (10 AM LA time). I wasn't happy, but I wasn't surprised, either: Leo Davenport was a great lawyer, but just a bit absentminded about things like time zones. He was genuinely saddened by my parents' deaths and he informed me of the terms of their will with great regret. Before they'd left for Osaka, they'd appointed my uncle in Tokyo my guardian in case they died. He would hold a couple hundred thousand in trust for me until I turned twenty-one; he was authorized to use that money to defray the expense of raising me. Their life insurance policies left me a few hundred thousand more. There was also some real estate and a few bequests to friends and relatives, mostly furniture and such.

I spent most of the next day reading–I could more or less understand the newspaper and I had brought a fair number of English books. After dinner, I stashed most of my money in the secret compartment of Dad's suitcase–the one designed to fry anyone with the wrong fingerprints–and went out, carrying his pistol and my wallet. Tokyo had a rather high crime rate that summer.

As I walked through an empty alley towards a club the waiter had recommended, a crowd of thin men in trenchcoats, fedoras, and dark glasses appeared in front of me. I turned around, but more had come up behind me. Something told me they were unnatural, inhuman. Their voices confirmed the thought: 'Come to our world. Come to our world. Come...'

'Stay away from me!' I'd drawn the pistol without noticing. I didn't have enough bullets to kill them all (two clips and the one in the gun–thirty seven rounds total), but a few casualties should make them retreat. They advanced slowly in a line. 'I swear I'll kill the first sonuvabitch who gets past that ladder!'

And I did. He went down missing the right side of his face, though no blood came from the wound. They kept coming. Two more fell; they vanished, leaving pink crystal stars on the ground. Ten more followed them and the gun clicked empty. I reloaded and backed against a wall, trying to cover both sides. _They might kill me, but I'll take a few of these bastards with me_.

They stopped. As one, they pulled back their trenchcoats and a dozen gun barrels appeared from each 'chest.' 

'Die!' I fired blindly now. I knew I was going to die, and I didn't care. Something snapped inside, and a white-hot wave passed through me; then, a glowing white disk appeared at my feet, moving upwards. I dropped the gun in surprise. When the light faded, I felt like I'd just put on a very thick coat. I looked at my left arm and found a shield on it: two lions rampant, or, flanking a sword, argent, on a field azure. It was triangular and slightly curved, long enough to cover me from neck to knee. It seemed I'd somehow acquired a full plate harness. I hid behind the shield as they fired. Pink rings rebounded from the shield to destroy trashcans and garbage bags. I felt more strike my back.

It is not enough merely to keep thine foes from harming thee. Thou must attack!  The voice that spoke in my head sounded English, like the nobles in old soap operas.

'With what?!'

With thine sword, of course. I looked down and saw the sword on my left hip and the dagger on my right. I drew the sword. It was about three and a half feet long, with a grip long enough for two hands but the weapon was also balanced for single-handed use. The hilt had a plain crosspiece and a leather grip. The dagger was about ten inches long, a miniature version of the sword.

I charged with the sword held high, ignoring the fire from behind. My first stroke clove a 'man' open from crown to breast and me second one cut three more in half at the waist. I continued to swing wildly, severing limbs and the occasional head. Thou has talent; however, thou needst much training.

'And I suppose you could do better?' With thine leave... I felt myself shunted to one side and the voice took control of my body. He moved with grace, flowing from each move to the next. I noticed a red blur beside me and the enemies on either side fell. A red dagger buried itself in the throat of the last one in front of me. I regained control and turned around after sheathing my sword.

'Thanks. What are those things?' A girl about my age stood there holding a ridiculously large red sword. Her black hair had a single lock tipped in red. She was wearing a white dress shirt and very tight jeans. She pushed the blade through a glowing portal and began to pick up the crystals.

'You're not bad. I suppose I'll have to share the bounty with you...maybe fifty thousand yen for each of us.'

'Bounty? What were those things?'

'Invaders. I'm a hunter; I get a bounty for each one I kill. Where should I send the money?'

'I'm leaving for Tokyo in a few days. Do you have something to take down the address?' She pulled out a cellphone. I gave her my name and my uncle's address.

'What a coincidence. I live on that street, too. I'll bring it by sometime next week. By the way, how about a little sparring?' She pulled the giant sword from another portal.

'Why not?' She charged before the words were out of my mouth, bringing the blade around in a wide arc that barely cleared the walls. I blocked it with my shield, but the blow knocked me into the alley wall. I declined a second bout. She left with the crystals clinking in a small bag.

_Now, how do I get out of this thing?_ Command it to return. I'd heard worse ideas. 'Armour, return.'

The light flared again and I was back in my regular clothes. I picked up the gun and empty magazines and reloaded the weapon. I found a package store a few yards from the end of the alley. The owner looked at me suspiciously when I brought him a bottle of brandy and one of bourbon–my parents' favourite drinks. I handed him my passport–with a few thousand yen inside–and he rang it up. I returned to the hotel and poured myself two drinks. I drained the cups after brief toasts to my parents. _I hope you're in a happier place now...no more fighting, no more bitchy clients._

Well said. The voice seemed to have no objections to the fact that I was underage.

'Who are you?' Galahad, son of Launcelot Dulac; knight of the Round Table. I was surprised, to put it mildly, but I continued in a normal tone.

'Why are you here?' Thou didst summon me through the Gate of Spirits.

'Gate of Spirits?' There are many Gates that link this world to others. Fire, wind, weapons, and beasts may be summoned through them. Our ally of tonight controls the Gate of Blades. The Gate thou dost command is the Gate of Spirits, one of the rarest of all Gates. Thou mayest summon the spirits of two warriors to aid thee in battle. I am the first of thine two companions.

_Great...and these spirits will live in my head_. That is true, we shall dwell within thee. However, thou mayest find solitude at any time by closing the Gate.

_How do you know all this_? I was summoned through this Gate many years ago. The companions of the one who summoned me taught us the lore of the Gates, incomplete as it was.

_Do I get any special powers from summoning your armour? How do I do that, anyway_? As thou probably knowest, I, with two companions, Sir Perceval and Sir Bors, achieved the quest of the Sangreal. Certain powers have therefore been granted me, and through me, thee. First, creatures of evil–demons and lesser monsters–cannot abide thine presence without pain. Second, thine blade shall burn them as though it were an angel's fiery brand. Finally, thou holdst the healing power of the Grail in thine hand. Thou hast but to call the armour by name to summon it forth at any time. _I guess the Invaders didn't count as monsters. I think I'll call it "Leo" for its arms_.

_Hate to break it to you, Galahad, but I worship Athena_. Thou art a heathen?! Thine idol is a suitable choice for a warrior, but thine soul is in great peril. I hope to convert thee to the True Faith, but the powers I spoke of are mine and my faith sustains them.

_That's good to hear. Do you know who my second ally will be_? I know not. Thou shalt meet him soon, however.

_You mentioned training. Will you teach me to wield a sword_? I shall. Sleep now. We begin training at dawn. Close the Gate; thou wilt sleep easier for it.

I concentrated on the image of a closing door and I felt strangely alone as Galahad withdrew.

Notes: This grew out of a post of mine on a thread on the TechTV Anime Unleashed boards discussing what powers one would want as a Gatekeeper. I said I would like a Gate that summoned armour. This is the end result of much thought along those lines. I am greatly indebted to one known to me only as KuririnAD. He nudged me onto the 'spirits' thing.

            For anyone who has read my other fics (modesty prohibits me from naming them, but they are listed in my profile; click my name at the top of the page), I've been on a slightly depressing streak these past two months or so. I'm not apologizing, but I hope this fic has a happier ending than the beginning promises.

            The narrator's Gate behaves rather oddly, but a 'standard' Gate just wouldn't work for summoning a suit of armour. A suit that appears at your feet isn't that useful. The second aspect of the Gate, the spirits, opens within him and no one else can see it.

            I hope to have this complete in six parts, but as you probably know, an author doesn't have quite as much control of a story as one would think.

            For reference, I'm using an exchange rate of 120 yen to the dollar for this story. And a bounty of 2000 yen a head on Invaders (kinda low, but they die in large numbers). Also, _italics_ indicate the narrator's thoughts; enclose Galahad's.

            See you in Tokyo! (not literally)


	2. Tokyo

Part II: Tokyo

My training began after breakfast the next morning. I envisioned a door opening in my head and felt Galahad's presence return. He began by having me summon his armour and sword. Then I removed the armour, after which he taught me the names of each plate: pauldron, vambrace, cuisse, and dozens more. The plates were plain polished steel, very angular and incredibly light for their thickness. This was due to enchantments laid on the metal during its forging, according to Galahad.

After about half an hour, Galahad began to teach me how to wield the sword: how to hold it, how to draw it, how to defend myself, and how to attack. He demonstrated each move with my muscles, which made it much easier to imitate his actions. After another two hours or so, Galahad taught me how to don the armour unaided–I had no squire to help me– and I returned it through the Gate.

I had lunch in the hotel restaurant–roast duck and stir-fried vegetables–and returned to my room to pack for the trip to Tokyo. Three mid-sized suitcases were all we'd brought with us; the rest had been shipped ahead to storage. I learned later that I'd forgotten my towel in the bathroom.

I took an evening train, one early enough to arrive in Tokyo at a decent hour, but late enough to be relatively empty. I spent the trip reading the portions of Mallory's _Morte d'Arthur that dealt with Launcelot and Elaine, Galahad's mother; Galahad's life; and the quest for the Grail. My uncle met me on the platform and drove me to his home, a rather small seventh floor apartment in a gleaming high-rise. He was somewhat shorter than my father, about my height, though he had broader shoulders than his brother, and a thin mustache and thinning black hair. My aunt met us at the door; she was a petite woman with long black hair and bright eyes. We moved the suitcases into a small room (it turned out to be my two younger cousins'–the twins had moved into my other cousin's room). I didn't feel right kicking them out like that, but I couldn't do anything about it until after the funeral._

The funeral took place on Thursday, two days after I arrived. All three of my surviving grandparents (my paternal grandfather had passed away several years ago) flew in, along with a multitude of friends, great-aunts and -uncles, and cousins of various degrees. The ceremony was quiet and brief, with everyone paying their respects to the urn afterwards. The banquet that night was prodigious and followed by seemingly endless rounds of toasts. Many of my relatives seemed intent on drowning their grief–or sampling all the fine spirits they couldn't afford themselves. By the time it broke up, they were too far gone to notice that I'd joined in. I regretted it in the morning: hung-over people are not good company for breakfast, especially when one is a fellow sufferer.

I managed to get my uncle alone on Saturday. 'I want to thank you for your hospitality, but I don't feel right staying here. Don't get the wrong idea: You're all great people, and I've enjoyed staying with you. It's just that…well, your place is kinda small for five people to share. I know Erin (my eldest cousin, two years my junior) won't complain, but I'm not comfortable with forcing her to room with Calvin and Kevin.'

He replied gently, 'I understand. We'll get you your own place. I hope you can find a home close to ours. Family should stay close at times like this.' By Monday, I'd settled on a two-room, one-bath apartment a few miles away listed at 186000 yen a month ($1400 US). An hour of fast talking got my name on the lease on Wednesday; my uncle arranged for me to draw the rent and a modest monthly stipend ($1500) from my trust fund.

The odd girl I'd met in Osaka came by on Tuesday. My aunt answered the door and called me. The girl handed me about 55,000 yen and left without a word. After she left, my aunt asked me, 'Who was that? And what was that money for?'

I thought quickly. 'She's just someone I met my last night in Osaka. I took her side in an argument in a club. Some point of movie trivia; I don't even remember what it was. The other guy snapped and asked us to put money on it; he was confident–or stupid– enough to offer us ten-to-one odds, too. We put up 5500 apiece. It turned out we were right when we asked the bartender to look it up, but he didn't have the money on him. He said he'd pay up later if we went by his place. After he left, I told the girl that I was leaving for Tokyo the next day and that I couldn't go with her to collect. She said that she was coming here, too, and that she would bring me my share, so I gave her your address.' My aunt seemed to buy the story.

My parents had sent most of our furniture and other belongings into storage in Osaka before we'd left the States. I found an inventory in Mom's suitcase and spent Thursday drawing up a list of what I needed: bed; TV; computer; desk; couch; a few chairs; phones; lights; our knives, pots, pans, and silverware; and a hundred other odds and ends. On Friday, I made arrangements for those items to be shipped to my new apartment Monday afternoon; the rest were to be moved to storage in Tokyo. They were half an hour late, but we managed to set everything up pretty quickly.

My new home was on the tenth floor and the door opened on a living room with a large window at the opposite end. A small kitchen with a gas stove, refrigerator, and dishwasher was to the left as I walked in. On the right was a small space opening on three rooms: bedrooms on either side and the bathroom in the center. The bedroom on the left (as one faced the bathroom) was a bit larger than the other and also had a large window, but not much of a view. I chose that room as my own; the other room would serve as a library or general storage space. I placed my desk under the window, flanked by bookshelves. A dresser stood on the door's right side, with the bed behind it against the right-hand wall. Between them was a small nightstand, on which I kept a phone and an alarm clock. My closet was almost non-existent, but so was my wardrobe. 

The only cable outlet was on the wall dividing the living room from my bedroom, so the TV had to be there. The couch stood opposite the TV, and a couple of armchairs formed a short arc on either side. A second phone hung above the kitchen counter. I put a pair of barstools under the counter. The living room was too small for our old dining table so I left the center of the room empty for the time being.

The bathroom had a speaker/microphone on either side of the door. The room was almost completely soundproof otherwise. The tub was about four feet long by two wide by three deep; a showerhead jutted from the wall above the faucet.

After setting up my furniture and unpacking a few things, I went out to buy groceries and the thousand other things needed to run a home, including adaptors for my American appliances. There was a large supermarket several blocks away, and a small fruit store a bit closer. I also bought a _kotatsu_, a small folding table with a heater and blanket underneath. 

I checked my mailbox after training Tuesday morning, more to get used to its location than because I expected anything. To my surprise, I had a letter from the company my parents had worked for. Mr. Yamamoto, the head of the Tokyo office, wanted to see me as soon as possible. I called the office to make an appointment for 1PM Wednesday.

The Company's offices were in a downtown high-rise across the street from a large bank. I handed my guns to the receptionist (the letter had instructed me to bring them) and she sent me in after a brief wait. Mr. Yamamoto was a short man, thin, middle-aged, and grey. He offered his condolences on my parents' death and then got down to business. 'As you probably know, our Company provides security for clients of all ages. The fastest growing segment of our clientele is the under-25 age group. These clients often request protection from younger agents. This is quite understandable; after all, a teenage starlet can hardly have an old man following her everywhere, no matter how good he is. However, we have very few agents under thirty; few people of that age are mature and dependable enough to be entrusted with another person's life. From your parents' reports about you, and your informal work for us in the past (I'd babysat for clients before, preventing at least one kidnapping attempt, and provided surveillance at several events), we believe that you have the potential to be one of our finest agents.'

'I don't know what to say, sir, other than "Thank you." But I have another year of high school left after this one, and Tategami High School's policies forbid students to hold jobs.'

'You will only be a provisional agent: part-time, paid by the job. Most of your assignments will be night events. After graduation, you will be properly trained to become a full agent. As for your school, we'll handle that if it comes up. Do you have any further questions?'

'Just one, sir: When do I start?'

'Immediately. We'll contact you when we have an assignment for you. Personnel has some paperwork for you to fill out, and Q-Division will issue your equipment. Your parents would be proud to know their son joined us so young.' He clasped my hand warmly; I bowed deeply, and left. The receptionist returned my guns and directed me to the Personnel office on the floor below. There, I received a tall stack of forms: health information, confidentiality agreement, liability waiver, loyalty oath, and others. I also received a security pass, Company ID, concealed weapons license (good in almost any country since the Company had deals with most major governments), and access information for the Company's computer network. Then I was sent off to Q-Division (no one ever used the official name, and I never learned it) to pick up my equipment.

Q-Division was run by a wizened little Japanese woman. I ran to embrace her when I recognized her. 'Aunt Yoko! How've you been lately?' She was one of my parents' closest friends and she'd always had an (un)healthy supply of candy for me.

'It's nice to see you, too, dear. I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral. My knees and back were giving me trouble again. Now, let's see what I've got for you.' She had half a dozen kiwi-sized grenades (the Company had occasional run-ins with organized crime and large gangs; the grenades helped level the playing field); spider-silk/Kevlar/ceramic plate body armour, light but very strong; a black suit; night-vision sunglasses (I didn't understand how they worked, but they did); a pager ('for Company use only. Don't give the number to anyone'); and several other gadgets. Finally, we stopped in front of a shelf of ammo boxes. She asked to see my guns and I handed them to her.

'I made these as their wedding present, you know: .50 caliber–some things just won't stop for anything less–composite-ceramic construction; they'll got right through any metal detector. I see you've taken good care of them.' She disassembled the weapons and cleaned them before returning them to me along with several boxes of bullets. As I left, I promised to visit her some time and gave her my new address.

A group of masked men with assault rifles and duffel bags burst out of the bank across the street as I walked out the door. Police sirens blared as officers blockaded both ends of the block. The gunmen opened fire as one of them started a Jeep. I dove behind a small Toyota and drew my father's gun. A bullet pierced the door inches from my head. I raised my head to peek through the broken windows. The police were pinned down behind their cars. The gunmen had climbed into the Jeep, but they seemed to be having trouble getting out of the parking space. One was shooting anything moving on the sidewalk, so escape was out of the question.

I crept behind the Toyota's trunk and slowly moved into a half-crouch with my gun on the trunk lid. I fired as the driver tried yet again to get on the road. His head exploded in a mist of blood and the Jeep crashed into the Nissan in front of it. I hit the ground as a gunman sprayed the area. His comrades kept firing on the police as one of them broke into another car. I peeked through the broken windows again and saw the man who'd been shooting at me half-turn to give his companions an all-clear signal. I fired and blood sprayed from his back as the bullet pierced his body. Another burst of bullets tore through the Toyota. One hit me in the chest; it felt like the proverbial falling ton of bricks. I saw a SWAT team charge the gunmen as I went down. By the time I got up, it was over: two robbers dead, three wounded, and one arrested.

Two officers approached me. 'Thanks for the help….Hey, you're just a kid!' exclaimed one. His partner picked up my gun.

'You got a license for this?'

It was painful to breath, much less talk, but I replied, 'Here it is.' I pulled my Company credentials from my inside breast pocket.

'What're you trying to pull? These can't be real!' I pointed out that we could check my story inside. We went in and handed my papers to the receptionist.

'Yes, officer, he's one of ours. If it's not too much trouble, please take him to the infirmary–fifth door on the right.' The receptionist pointed down the hall. The doctors examined me and said that nothing was broken, though I had a nasty bruise on my chest. The officers then took my statement about the robbery and promised to preserve my anonymity. My body armour was taken as evidence and Aunt Yoko sent up a new suit.

When I got home, I offered Athena an 8oz steak and a bottle of Scotch in thanks for my survival. She was understanding about the short meat supply in Japan, but She insisted on large offerings of alcohol. Dinner was Ramen and peaches. Galahad went a little lighter on my training for a couple days because of my injury.

I bought five sets of my new school uniforms on Thursday; the grey jackets fit fine even with a holster underneath, but the maroon ties were hideous. I also got a haircut and a new cell phone–my American model wasn't compatible with the Japanese network.

I decided to check out the local nightlife Friday. There were a few clubs nearby, but none were worth going to. I had nothing else to do, so I wandered around for a few hours. Eventually, I found myself in an empty park. I sat down under a large tree to rest before heading back. I talked to Galahad for a while, asking about what the real Round Table had been like. He left after about a quarter hour, saying When next thou openst the Gate, thou wilt meet thine other ally.

I was getting up to leave when I heard the hollow voices of Invaders chanting, 'Eliminate the Gatekeeper. Eliminate….' A legion of the beige-coated beings surrounded me with their guns out. I tried to call Leo, but it felt different this time–I felt like I was the source of the heat. When the light passed, I was definitely not wearing Leo. Screens surrounded my head with displays of the park and various readings that meant nothing to me. The view appeared to be from eyes several inches taller than my own. I looked down to see what weapons came with the suit, but there was only a series of cylindrical bulges around the waist. _How the hell am I supposed to fight without weapons?!_

[They say you can rest after you die. Lying bastards.] The half-awake voice that answered me seemed to belong to another Englishman, though his voice was oddly familiar beneath the accent. The Invaders opened fire. [Are you going to fight or just stand there?]

_I'd fight if I had anything to fight with! Who are you, anyways?_ [Time for introductions later. Scorpio here responds to your movements and your thoughts…hmmmmm, you're only 73% compatible. High, but not high enough to really use it.] He directed my attention to a gauge with a brain beside it.

_Why don't you take control since it's your armour?_ I stepped aside and gave him control. The gauge jumped to 86%. [A bit lower than usual, but it should do. Alright. Now, then…] 'Die!' He thrust out the left arm, palm out. I felt power gather within us. The air glowed red and a few sparks jumped from the hand, but nothing more happened. [Shit! I don't have my full powers in this state. Guess we'll just do this the old-fashioned way.]

He sprang into the air and hovered above the Invader horde. He extended the right arm with the fist clenched at a downward angle. A stubby tube about an inch wide extended from above the wrist. He brought the left arm across the chest, and a tall, slightly curved rectangular shield unfolded from a bulge on the forearm to cover the body. The Invaders' shots reflected from the shield and tore holes in the turf. The spirit fired a stream of incandescent explosive red bolts from the right arm. Then he retracted gun and shield and extended a pair of straight two-foot blades from both wrists. He dove into the horde, spinning, stabbing, and slashing with incredible speed. I noticed that he commanded the armour by imagining what he wanted it to do: it spun when he thought of it spinning, and extended the blades when he 'saw' it in his mind's eye. A few minutes later, the grass was littered with crystals and severed limbs.

[Nice workout. Shame it was so short, though.] A powerful blast knocked me over before he finished speaking. I rolled and slowly climbed to my feet. An armoured behemoth was rumbling down the path. Its shape was vaguely like a tank's, but it had cannon mounted haphazardly at every angle. The turret carried a gun with a bore of at least two feet. I gave the spirit control again. [That thing's too big to take directly with what we have. But it must have a weak point.]

The screens flickered between a dozen false-colour images of the scene before me. They stopped at one that revealed a dark mass deep within the machine connected to the rest of it by winding tendrils. [That's probably the brain or the heart. If we take it out, the whole thing should die.] One screen shifted to a three-dimensional display of the tank, highlighting its armour and weapons. [The armour's thinner on top, so we'll attack from above.]

He leapt high above the tank and pulled on of the cylinders from the waist. A sharp shake turned it into a ten-foot spear. He dove and the spear sank deep into the turret, piercing the 'brain' underneath. The cannons began to fire convulsively in all directions, but I was in a blind spot.

'Ayaaaaaaaannnnnneeeeeeee!' A high, whiny voice cut through my skull. I caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a flying schoolgirl with a disk of green light beneath her feet. She appeared to be dropping a series of small objects as she dodged the dying tank's cannonfire.

'You'd think she'd be used to it by now.' I caught a second girl's voice, deeper and farther away. A number of readings suddenly spiked. [Oh, shit! Ventral thrusters, emergency power!]

The thrusters kicked harder than the bullet I'd caught earlier. I was blasted backwards off the tank, barely outrunning a geyser of flame. I landed to find two girls picking up the field of crystals the tank and Invaders had left behind. One was about my natural height with a round face, large brown eyes, and brown hair hanging in a long braid. The other was shorter and paler with large glasses, brown eyes, and short dark hair. An open laptop glowed on a nearby rock.

I didn't bother to retract my helm (not that I knew how at the time) before shouting, 'Don't you look before planting bombs?! You almost got me killed!'

'Those weren't bombs. They were imitation Gates; more specifically, Gates of Explosion,' replied the shorter girl in a deadpan voice.

'Sorry about that. Guess I didn't see you.' The brunette turned out to own the terrible voice I'd heard earlier. She nervously scratched her head and laughed. 'I'm Miu Manadzuru, and this is Ayane Isuzu. Pleased to meet you.' She held out her hand. 

I introduced myself and shook her hand gingerly, as I was unsure about the armour's strength. Ayane just looked at me oddly and said, 'I suppose you deserve a share of the bounty for this. One-third?'

'Of course.' I asked the spirit to count the crystals; the sensors picked up about 450. I gave Ayane my address so she could bring me the money later; she took it down on her cell phone. I flew off clumsily and removed the armour in the nearest alley.

I decided to have a chat with my new ally when I got home. _Who are you?_

[I am Alexander de Winter mar'Jaddo, Knight of the Seventh Seal and the Winged Dragoon of Sidonia.] The name surprised me, but I quickly dismissed it as a coincidence. I asked him what the titles meant. [Several years ago, a portal opened in the deserts of western China. A demonic horde poured through that took two years to drive back. At the last battle, seven knights, each a powerful mage of a different school of magic, sealed the portal. I was one of the Seven.

As for the other, Sidonia is one of the Thousand Kingdoms of Morsinia. The Dragoons were its elite force of knights trained to jump into the rear of enemy lines and destroy their reserves. Each Dragoon had some distinctive mark for recognition on the field. Some had painted armours: the Gold Dragoon, the Black Dragoon, the Crimson Dragoon, and so on. Others wore crests or bore painted shields: the Dragoon of the Lion or the Phoenix or some other creature. I had wings of black fire, hence the name of Winged Dragoon.] _So what kind of powers do you have? You tried to do some magic back there, didn't you?_

[It seems that I've lost most of what power I had, so there's no reason to list them. However, I can still perceive things hidden from most humans: I can see across the full electromagnetic spectrum from radio to gamma rays, and I can feel the flows of many types of magical energy. Also, Scorpio can fly and it will give you the strength of twenty men.] We talked a bit more, but he didn't say much about himself or his past. Finally, I closed the Gate and went to bed.

Notes: If you didn't catch it, the narrator is male. It's not easy to make that clear when writing in first person and I apologize for any confusion I may have caused.

About the fact that he's living alone: I don't know how common this may or may not be in the real Japan, but it makes sense and sets up some of the later plot. Remember: suspension of disbelief cannot be selective. You either believe everything I write is true in the context of this story or none of it is. Similarly, the rents I quote are probably a bit on the low side for a major city.

The Company he works for is your basic secretive and well-armed 'Men in Black' outfit. Again, suspension of disbelief at their hiring a high school student. Same thing about the shootout.

Alex de Winter is the main character from my other major fic (Requiem Knight…and I swear this is the last time I'll plug it). However, this is an alternate version of him, one who died in his second battle with Kylos (don't worry if you don't understand what I'm talking about; just skip to the next note). The "mar'Jaddo" just indicates that he married into House Jaddo. His powers are more or less the same as the 'original' Alex's, but his past is slightly different.

The narrator's name is _NOT 'Alex de Winter.' He's surprised for another reason._

You probably noticed that the battle with the Invaders sounded a bit strange. That's intentional. It probably feels kinda odd to have someone else controlling your limbs as you watch.

As you probably noticed, I don't like Miu's voice from the anime (dubbed version). Which is why she probably won't be showing up much in the rest of this fic.

I've made a few immaterial tweaks to the chronology, just to make a few things work:

1)The events of the OVA occurred during Ayane and Miu's 10th grade year (1st year in high school in Japan);

2)This fic takes place a year later;

3)Satoka is a year older than the other two Gatekeepers; she is in the 12th grade now;

4)The narrator is the same age as Satoka, but he's in the 11th grade (international transfers often have trouble with credit for courses and missing courses required for graduation…I have a friend graduating a year late because of that).

Again, much as I wish I could shoot like this guy, he is not based on me at all except for a few minor details.

Answers to things reviewers have said: 

RVD, The Company the narrator's parents worked for is _NOT_ AEGIS. It's a security outfit that caters to the extremely wealthy…providing bodyguards, rescuing kidnapping victims, recovering stolen property, destroying compromising documents of a personal nature (the Company will not attempt to shield clients from the law), etc. Also, Alex is definitely not Medieval; read my other fic for more details. Galahad, of course, is from the Middle Ages.

Aloofmonkey, Scorpio is a highly advanced power armour…robotic, as you said, at least in part. Think the original Starship Troopers.

Sorry for the delay in updating, but I haven't gotten much time to type lately…plenty to write, but little computer time. The third chapter will be up after a week or two.

Next chapter: Classes start at Tategami High.


	3. Home

Before I begin, I'd like to ask you to read the notes at the end before submitting a review asking me something. The notes are there to explain things. All the starry universe shall be revealed unto those who read my notes. At least, the part of the universe the story covers. I'll remind you of this later.

Part III: Home

I woke up Saturday morning with a hideous headache. _Dammit! I know I didn't drink anything last night…or eat anything that could cause this._ [The thought control system in Scorpio places a great strain on the brain if it is not highly compatible with the system. I had headaches like this when I first wore the armour, even though it was made for me. They subsided after the system adjusted itself to my brain. I'm not sure how much the system can adjust to accommodate you, but the headaches should be less severe after you've used it several times.]

_Great, so I just have to live with this as a side-effect of the armour._ I swallowed two Advil, which helped, and the headache was gone by noon.

Tategami High School was only five stops down the line from the subway station two blocks down the street. Classes started at eight Monday morning, so I caught a train just after seven. A few minutes into the ride, I heard a familiar high-pitched voice. 'So, if it wasn't an Invader, what was it? Some sort of robot?'

An equally familiar, but less irritating, voice replied, 'The imitation Gate of Perception in my laptop indicated that it was a human wearing some sort of armour. However, something was interfering with the Gate; the image was very blurry. I have his name, though, since he gave us his address….' Another conversation closer to me drowned her out.

When I got to the school, I wandered around for a while to familiarize myself with the layout. The gate opened on a large courtyard with several trees. The building itself consisted of two wings joined at the center by a grand staircase and the main office. I found my classroom, 8-B, around 7:45. To my surprise, Miu and Ayane were sitting on opposite sides of the room. I took the only empty desk and opened the_ Aeneid_ to await the beginning of class. A few minutes later, a teacher came in, a tall, young, redheaded woman in a light blue suit. 'Class, we have a new student joining us this year,' she announced. 'He just transferred from the US, so I hope you will help him get adjusted to our system.' She beckoned me to join her at the front of the room and introduced me.

The first class was math, my bane. Trigonometry was never my strong point–I kept confusing sine and cosine or writing the ratios upside down. Fortunately, Alex turned out to be great at math, and he explained it to me. The English class that followed was taught by a heavyset middle-aged Japanese man with a full beard. I spent the hour in a half-doze, occasionally jotting down some arcane point of grammar I'd never heard of before. Alex snored in the background. Next came history; the lecture focused on the origins of the Tokugawa Shogunate in the late 1500s and early 1600s. The lecturer looked old enough to know the material first-hand.

I decided to eat lunch in the courtyard under the sun; air conditioning chills my bones for some reason. I sat under a large oak and opened my bag. I'd packed a cold sandwich and some random snacks.

'Mind if we join you?' The speaker was a slim guy about my height who looked like he needed a shave. Standing beside him was a muscular boy half a head shorter than me. I recognized them from class–they sat in the row behind me. 'I'm Kenichii Kobe, and this is Masaharu Sakai….'

I missed the rest because I'd noticed that the girl from Osaka was lounging under a tree on the other side of the courtyard. That lock of hair was unmistakable. Her grey uniform seemed unnatural for some reason; it didn't suit her at all. Masaharu noticed me staring at her.

'So, first day here and you've already got your heart set on someone, eh? That's Satoka Tachigawa. She's a senior, but I've heard that she isn't applying to any colleges. She's not going with anyone now, so why don't you get up and ask her out?' The barely concealed grins on their faces intimated that she reacted badly to such overtures.

'I'm not interested in her; not that way,' I replied defensively. 'She just looks like someone I met once, that's all.'

[Was Hael!] Alex's voice rang out in the ancient toast and I heard the clinking of metal cups. In the next five minutes, Alex and Galahad drank toasts to Launcelot, Arthur, Merlin, Sidonia, the Grail, Alex's wife, Guinevere, and each others' health. I began to feel a bit odd; not bad, but odd…happy wasn't the word for it, either, but it was a good feeling.

Have I told thee of the time my mother visited Camelot and met Queen Guinevere? My father Launcelot… Galahad sounded a bit unsteady. When he got to the part about Launcelot jumping nude out of a window, Alex burst out laughing and proposed a toast to madness. Then one to love, and one to fidelity. I must have laughed, as well, since Kenichii asked, 'What's so funny?'

'Oh, nothing. Just an old story that popped into my head. It'd take too long to tell. Where's my sandwich?' The bag lay by my foot, filled with crumbs, but the sandwich had disappeared.

'Uh, you ate it, remember?' Masaharu reminded me.

'Oh, right. Thanks.'

Half an hour later, Galahad and Alex were singing songs I'd never heard in languages I didn't know. Of course, the fact that I didn't recognize the songs meant nothing–those two could have been singing 'Pretty Woman' for all I could tell. They didn't have the best singing voices in the world. Then they stopped and a sweet but infinitely sad melody began to play–it began with a solo flute, but the strings joined in a minute later. Kenichii and Masaharu had been looking at me oddly all through lunch, probably because I'd kept laughing at Galahad and Alex's stories…and now I was swaying in time to the music. Something told me that it should be danced to, not merely heard. I spotted Satoka on the far side of the courtyard. I walked over to her and bowed low.

'May I have this dance, fair lady?' I slurred. Before she could respond, I'd pulled her up and my feet began to carry us in a stately dance I'd never seen. Several minutes later, when the music stopped, I bowed again and left. [Ah, the grace of youth. I've never seen the Selenai danced so well.]

The rest of the day was lost in a haze, except for an incident that occurred as I was leaving. The world was tipping back and forth as I walked out. The principal stopped me and smelled my breath. 'You're barely able to stand up, son!' he exclaimed. 'You should try to get some more sleep at home. There's no need to push yourself so hard this early in the year; you can't pass the exams if you have a breakdown the first week of class.'

I somehow made it home and cooked dinner without hurting myself. I woke up on the couch with a hideous headache feeling like I'd ridden roller coasters all night. My mouth tasted like something had died in there weeks ago. I decided not to risk breakfast after my stomach stopped heaving, but I packed a big lunch. The lights in the hall stabbed my eyes and the conversation in the elevator felt like hammers in my head. _What the hell were you two doing yesterday?!_

[Not so loud, please. Some of us aren't feeling too good this morning. We were just getting to know each other. Talking can be thirsty work, you know.] 

_Then why do I have a hangover if you two are just voices in my head?!_

[The memory of drink is as good as the substance for spirits. As for you, I suppose the Gate links us in more ways than one.] I sighed; there was nothing I could do about it. _At least try to keep the drinking under control while I'm in school._

The noise on the subway was torturous, but at least I was spared Miu's voice. In my condition, that may have been fatal. When I arrived at Tategami High, I saw Satoka approaching the school from the other direction carrying some sort of wrapped sandwich. I went up to her to apologise. 'Morning, Satoka. About yesterday…I don't know what came over me, but I wasn't quite myself. I'm sorry if what I did embarrassed you.'

My sudden greeting surprised her, but she recognized me quickly. 'Don't worry about it. Everyone knows you can't hold someone responsible for what he does while he's drunk. You're actually a pretty good dancer.' Her face hardened. 'But I _can hold you responsible for being drunk at school in the first place.' She grabbed my arm and threw me over the courtyard wall. My head hit a tree limb on the way down. Amazingly, the landing cured my headache._

I spent the rest of the week settling into the dull routine of school. I came in later than everyone else, which earned me some odd looks, but most of my classmates overlooked it as just part of my being foreign. Ayane brought me about 304,000 yen ($2533 US, just about), my share of last Friday's bounty, on Wednesday. Friday evening, I went club-hunting by riding the subway a stop or two at a time and then roaming a few blocks. Around ten-thirty, I saw a tall, thin man standing at the far end of an alley as I passed. His short hair shone silver in a streetlight's glare. I had a feeling that I knew him from somewhere, though I'd never met anyone with that hair and height. A column of Invaders appeared in the alley between us, but they focused on him, ignoring me. He thrust out an arm and shook it sharply. A tall staff topped with a vicious broadsword appeared in his hand. I drew my pistol and moved to help, but Alex held me back, saying, [I think this man can take care of himself.] _But he can't be under sixty!_ [I'd say he's closer to thirty-five.]

The man charged the Invaders with his odd weapon spinning beside him. The blade sliced through the creatures as though they were made of jelly. It was all over within a minute. The man stood among the crystals and said quietly and angrily, 'Still not the right world. How much longer must I search?' A glowing oval appeared in the air between us and he stepped through. The portal vanished after his foot entered.

_Who was that? You sounded like you knew him._

[That was me. Or rather, one of my counterparts Traveling between the worlds. After my wife's death, I sought her slayer on a hundred worlds…I didn't find him for thirty years, though. I gave up hope long before.] He cut off abruptly and refused to say more.

I ran into Satoka again while I was shopping after lunch Saturday afternoon. I was holding a large bag of groceries in my arms when she almost ran into me. 'Hey! Watch where you're going!'

'Oh, hi,' she said semi-apologetically. 'Sorry about that. By the way, I've been meaning to ask you something.' She pulled out her cellphone and started punching buttons. 'Where are you living now? I called your uncle's place Thursday to see if you wanted to do some sparring, but your aunt said you'd moved out.' I gave her my new address and asked for hers.

She gave it and said, 'I got a great deal on it, too: only 12,500 yen a month [about $1100 US] and it has a wonderful view. Three bedrooms, one bath, great kitchen, all the latest appliances, even its own laundry room.' Seeing my stunned look, she explained, 'I signed the lease before the housing market started heating up. I have to renew next month, though.' Her face said she knew her landlord would be demanding more now.

Her comment about sparring reminded me that I needed to buy some practice weapons, and maybe some real ones, too. I put it off until the next Saturday, though. There was a martial arts supply store a few blocks from my apartment, so I decided to start there before running around half the city. It was a large, modern place, with wide aisles of folded uniforms, weights, and assorted weapons. A glass display at the front contained several swords of various styles, and spears stood in long racks at the back. I bought two pairs of straight wooden swords; one pair was twice the weight of Galahad's sword, the other was the same weight. I also bought a six-foot spear ([Shoddy, but I've used worse] was Alex's comment.). Before I left, I asked the clerk to show me some of their steel swords. I let Galahad feel the weapons while Alex probed them in some incomprehensible way. Their verdict was that the weapons were primarily decorative: This blade would snap if one used it against an armoured foe, or a foe who blocked thine blow. [This has to be the worst steel I've ever seen in a weapon. It looks pretty, but it won't hold an edge for five minutes.]

The manager was nice enough to direct me to an antique shop on the other side of town that carried older weapons, ones that may have seen combat. The shop was small, dark, and cramped. Swords hung on the walls beside axes and maces; the glass counter contained dozens of daggers beside earrings and bracelets. Assorted polearms stood in ranks with narrow aisles between. The proprietor and sole employee was a small wizened man with a long white mustache and white hair.

'How's business?' I asked.

He replied in a dry and dusty voice, 'As well as could be expected. Many of the younger generation find these old things irresistible; they think they lend an "atmosphere" to a room. But once they see the price of quality, they go to some new store that sells stamped blades for thrice their worth.' As he talked, I wandered over to the table at the center of the back wall. A five-foot-long box stood on the table. Within lay a sword about four and a half feet long in a plain black scabbard mounted with a little gold. The quillions were angled towards the tip of the blade with rubies mounted on the ends. The hilt was wrapped in brown leather with a round pommel of plain bronze. This looks familiar…where have I seen this sword before?

I picked up the sword to examine the blade. It was sharper than a sushi chef's knife, and polished to a mirrored sheen. I turned to ask the price, expecting to be bankrupt when I left. The shopkeeper's eyes were bulging from their sockets and his mouth hung open in shock.

'No charge for you,' he choked out. 'That sword was said to belong to a great knight. Sadly, I've forgotten his name. No one has been able to touch hilt or scabbard in all the time I've had it. The man who sold it to me said that only one of that knight's blood may lay hands on it. If that is so, it is yours by right.' I couldn't persuade him to let me pay him for the sword, so I settled for buying a ten-inch dagger to match it and a second sword. The latter was about the same length, though not as fine, with a straight guard studded with sapphires. I left the store with barely enough in the bank to feed myself until the end of the month when I drew my stipend.

When I arrived at my apartment, I found the hall outside blocked with assorted furniture, stacks of cardboard boxes, and a mattress. Satoka was leaning against my door with her arms folded and an impatient look on her face.

'What are you doing here? Housewarming gifts are nice, but don't you think this is a bit much?'

'It's not for you. This is mine. Some old couple offered my landlord almost triple what I was paying on the condition that they could move in Monday. My parents and I can't match that, so….' She broke off and waved an arm at the boxes.

'I'll help you unpack, but the hall's a bit narrow for that bed. And there's no kitchen or bathroom. But the laundry room is just down that way.' I hoped she would take the hint. I didn't need a roommate who could destroy the apartment. The elevator bell rang, but no one came out.

'Are you acting stupid, or were you born that way? Open the door and help me with the boxes!' She snapped. I sighed. She _would_ force me to do it directly.

'You can't just show up on someone's doorstep and expect him to let you move in. You're not that good-looking.' Her eyes flashed and she moved to draw a weapon before she caught herself. I continued, 'Besides, can't you find another place or move back in with your parents?'

'They live in Osaka. I was visiting them when we met. Transferring schools would be almost impossible now that classes have started. As for finding a new apartment, you know how the market is right now: there aren't any apartments available in my price range, and I don't know anyone else who needs an apartment. And don't try telling me you don't have room. Every apartment in this building has at least two bedrooms.' About midway through this rant, I realized that I would have to either give in or remove her by force. I wasn't sure I'd be able to do that without wrecking half the floor. Besides, even though I didn't know her that well, I just couldn't kick her out on the street. I sighed.

'Fine. You can stay here until you can find a new apartment. You'll have to pay half the rent and utilities, though. The room on the right is yours.' I opened the door and showed her the room. She asked about the speaker by the bathroom door, and I explained that the bathroom was practically soundproof, and that that was the only way to talk with someone in there. She also noticed the small shrine to Athena I'd set up in one corner. I set up a stand for the swords before starting on her stuff. Moving the bed, desk, chairs, and boxes took the rest of the afternoon. After she'd settled in, she decided to examine the swords I'd bought. The ruby-hilted blade threw sparks that burned her hand when she tried to touch it. I laughed as I went into the kitchen to start dinner. I said, 'Be careful around that sword. The others should be fine, though. Oh, and if you don't like my cooking, there's Ramen in that cabinet.'

She seemed to enjoy the pork stew and miso soup I made. As I cleaned up, I said, 'I think we should try to keep this quiet. I don't think the school administration would approve of this.'

She just grunted and turned on the TV. I tried again to start a conversation. 'So what are you planning to do after you graduate?'

'I'll probably become a full-time Invader hunter. There's good money in that here in Tokyo. I might take a part-time job to fall back on if there's a dry spell. What about you? What are your plans?'

'I got a job a few weeks ago. I'm planning to stay with the Company after I graduate. The work should be pretty exciting, with decent pay and a chance for promotions.'

'What kind of job is it?'

'Well, it's sort of an internship thing. I do odd jobs for the Company. Haven't had one yet, but they say they'll call me when they need me.'

'So what does this Company do?'

Company policy was rather strict about letting outsiders learn too much, so I was forced to give a vague answer. 'Car rentals. High-class car rentals. Rolls-Royces, Porches, Ferraris, that sort of thing.' This was true; the Company did provide transportation for clients. Satoka gave a snort at my idea of 'exciting.'

About an hour later, I was soaking in the tub when Alex spoke up. [I'd be careful around that girl. I've met her type before. One of them almost killed me when I walked in on her bathing. Like it was my fault she left the door wide open.]

_Go ahead and say it._ I directed the thought to Galahad. Say what?

_That sin and damnation speech everyone feels obliged to give whenever a guy and a girl decide to live under one roof._ Thou art both adults in mind and body, if not by law. If thine lives are chaste, who can gainsay thine decision? 

[I agree with him. It's no one's business but yours. I'd try not to make her angry, though.] I felt a cold draft part the steam from my bath and I turned my head to find out what caused it. Satoka was standing in the open door wearing a bathrobe. She carried a towel in her arms with several bottles of coloured goo on top. 'Get in or get out,' I growled, 'but don't just stand there. You're letting the cold in.'

She blushed and fled. I came out a few minutes later with my towel wrapped around my waist. I pointed to the red sign reading "Occupied" over the door and shouted, 'Can you not see that?!' 

'No. And there wasn't much to see inside, either.' She pushed past me into the bathroom before I could make a coherent response.

The next morning, Satoka lounged on the couch in a loose red robe­–and not much underneath–watching some soap opera loosely based on the Three Kingdoms saga while I made onion crepes­_–distant relatives of pancakes with many layers that peel apart as one ate them. The doorbell rang, and I asked her to see who it was since the crepes burned easily. She got up and opened the door. Kenichii and Masaharu stood outside, practically drooling when they saw her. She called, 'I think it's for you.'_

I turned around and asked them, 'What the hell are you two doing here?!'

They kept staring as Kenichii answered, 'We live on the floor below you. We came up yesterday to do some laundry (our building had laundry facilities every five floors; I lived on the tenth floor) when we heard you two arguing and decided to come back later.' Satoka returned to her room to change while we talked.

'I don't see you two carrying any laundry.'

He replied quickly, 'We did it yesterday after you'd moved the stuff out of the hall. We just came up to say "Hi" this morning.'

Masaharu broke in, 'You lucky dog! You just met her two weeks ago and you've already talked her into living with you. So how is she in the sack?' _The inevitable question…why do people immediately assume that_? [Because they're filthy-minded perverts, why else?]

'It's not like that between us. She got outbid for her apartment, and she didn't have anywhere to go. She just showed up here with everything she owned. If you two like her so much, why don't you offer her a place to stay?'

'Uh…my parents would kill me if I tried to bring a girl in like that,' confessed Masaharu.

'Mine, too,' Kenichii added.

'I heard what you two said and I just want to say that I'd rather kill myself than live with wimps like you.' Satoka addressed this to Masaharu and Kenichii as she came out of her room in her customary jeans and T-shirt.

'Wimp?! I can bench more than the three of you weigh!' Masaharu shouted.

'Strength isn't everything.' Satoka threw me one of the practice swords and took one for herself. Before we started, though, I asked my friends to move the TV into one of the bedrooms­–replacing it would mean living on Ramen for two weeks.

When they returned, Satoka and I bowed to each other and assumed our fighting stances. I lunged towards her heart, but she dodged to one side and brought her sword around in a sweeping arc at my head. I spun to meet her blade with my own and then disengaged. She charged me, stabbing at my throat. I dodged to my right and caught her behind the knees with my blade. As she went down, she hooked one foot behind my ankles and pulled me to the floor. We rolled a few feet away from each other and stood. She came at me with her sword held high for an overhead blow; I stepped to one side just as she began the swing and drove my knee into her diaphragm. As she gasped for air, I raised my sword for a 'killing' blow. Before it connected, though, she'd hooked her blade behind my knees and thrown me to the ground. I felt the sword point at my throat as she declared, 'I win.'

I smiled wryly and whispered,' Look down.' My sword was nestled just under her ribs­–a punctured lung at the least; not necessarily fatal, but inconvenient.

'Nice workout. Let's eat.' She put the swords back on the stand while I returned to the kitchen. Masaharu and Kenichii stared at her with a mix of admiration and terror.

As I finished the crepes, I asked them, 'Have you eaten yet?' They shook their heads, and I said, 'Since you're here, you might as well stay for breakfast.'

The grabbed plates and set up the _kotatsu before the words were out of my mouth, so I assumed they'd accepted the invitation. The crepe I'd been working on when they arrived was burned beyond edibility, and so was the last one (the phone rang while it was cooking­–telemarketer selling life insurance). I gave them to Kenichii and Masaharu. As they left, Satoka told them, 'If people are talking about us living together at school, I'll have your hides for boots.'_

'D-D-Don't worry,' Kenichii stammered. 'We won't tell anyone.' Masaharu nodded agreement quickly and the two practically tripped over themselves trying to get out.

'Poker?' Asked Satoka as she pulled a deck from her pocket.

READ MY NOTES BEFORE REVEIWING! THEY MAY ANSWER YOUR QUESTIONS.

Notes: I'll only say this once, so pay attention. _Italics_ indicate the narrator's thoughts, angle brackets enclose Galahad's thoughts, and [plain brackets] enclose Alex's thoughts. Because the system is so simple and easy to remember, this may be the _ONLY_ indication of who's speaking. So don't forget this…I'll try to mention who says what, but I may just rely on the brackets. 

I have no clue what the curriculum in Japanese high schools is, so I'm freehanding something reasonable. By the way, the Tokugawa Shogunate lasted from 1603 to 1867 (you can look this up in Encarta if you want)...gotta love the Internet. James Clavell's novel _Shogun is based on this; I can't say how accurate it is, but it's a good book. It's about 1150 pages, though._

I'm following the convention of placing surnames last since I'm rendering speech into English. Iron Chef fans will probably notice that the narrator's new friends' names are drawn from that show (or rather, the pieces of them are). They're just two random guys who attach themselves to him. I'm pretty sure they won't be too important…they probably won't die, either.

I reiterate: the Company the narrator works for is _NOT_ AEGIS! If it were, Reiji Kageyama would have contacted him. And his boss would have mentioned his Gate ability at the meeting, or asked about it…or sent him to get tested for it. So stop asking if he's working for AEGIS! He doesn't…at least, not yet. And if he does, it'll be more of a hobby than a job. The Company's this sort of corporate black ops outfit (well, grey ops; they don't do anything illegal) that's been around for a while.

Fear not, I'm not starting up a GK21 harem fic with all three Gatekeepers under one roof. For one thing, he doesn't have room for four people in that apartment. Besides, Miu's voice would drive at least one of her roommates to the point of homicide. And I'm not into the character killing thing. And for those who want a lemon/lime flavoured chapter, I have two things to say to you: 'Private Archives' and 'Write it yourself.'

Galahad's reaction to these two living together may seem odd for such a devout person, but remember that in his era, people were married by eighteen, sometimes for several years.

K&M are just two typical high school guys (well, typical American high school guys, more or less). I'm sure most of you know the type.

I'm not English, I just write like it. Some of the spellings just look cooler than the American system's. I may slip back and forth, especially on words like 'recognise' and 'realize.'

You may have noticed that I still haven't said the narrator's name. Don't ask what it is; I won't tell you. All will be revealed in the fullness of time.

If you don't like the title of this chapter, suggest a better one. One-word titles only, please. I've got a theme going and I don't want to break it.


	4. Inlaws

Disclaimer and a few notes: I don't own the "House of the Dead" games, but I have played II and III. Same with "Soul Caliber"

This chapter has a light lemon-lime flavour to it…just enough to offend the non-perverted, but light enough to leave the perverts unsatisfied. In other words, please don't report this as 'abuse.'

The songs that Alex randomly sings are mostly by Rod Stewart; he's an oldies fan. Bonus points to those who can name the songs.

Again, please read my notes. They answer all the questions I anticipated, and those are usually the obvious ones. I won't answer questions in reviews that are answered by my notes. And they usually contain answers to questions about previous chapters.

Part IV: In-laws

Breakfast on Monday consisted of cereal and milk. Satoka left for school about half an hour before I did. Masaharu and Kenichii were waiting for me at the school's gate. 'I can't believe you two aren't doing it!' exclaimed Kenichii. 'Are you gay or something? You're living together! Any straight man would be taking advantage of that.'

My right hand groped for a holster under my jacket before I remembered that I'd left my guns at home. I answered in a tight voice, 'That's between the two of us. You live a floor down from her. Why don't you take advantage of that?  Try cornering her in an elevator sometime.'

'Because she'd kill me if I tried!'

'And I'll kill you if you keep bugging me about her.' I broke away from them and went to class.

After school, I returned home to pick up my guns and headed out to a shooting range a few blocks away. After about an hour of punching holes in paper targets, I felt less homicidal. I'd also created a series of rather cute giant snowflakes. Satoka ran up to me as I was leaving. 'I thought you might be here. I need your help with something.'

That something turned out to be the latest "House of the Dead" game. The series revolved around shooting zombies. The guns were ridiculously light and had no recoil. I kept shooting to one side of my target through the first act. By the end, I'd gotten used to the guns and finished the final act on one credit. Then we moved on to "Soul Caliber II." She kicked my ass around for twenty minutes before I gave up and left to try my luck at a "Gauntlet" game.

I started dinner when we got home–Satoka cooked Sunday night and we agreed that I would take care of meals from then on–roast chicken and baked potatoes. As we ate, she asked me, 'I've heard you talking with your friends about me, and I've been wondering why you haven't tried to make a move on me. Am I that ugly? Or are you gay?'

'You're beautiful, and I'm not gay. But I have seen what you can do with those swords of yours. I'd like to keep my limbs attached until I graduate.'

'Oh, come on. I wouldn't hurt you for trying to feel on me or something like that.' I gave her a flat stare until she added, 'Well, not much, anyway. You have any idea how hard it is to have everyone so afraid of you that no one ever asks you out?'

'No, but with my parents' bouncing around the States, I was in a new school almost every year. I went out with girls, but they could all tell that I wasn't sticking around, so we never got anywhere. The closest things to friends that stayed with me were my books: Homer, Mallory, de Troyes, the Icelandic Sagas–all the old stories. That's how I learned Japanese, in fact–I was on a Far East streak a few years ago and I couldn't find any good English versions of the _Tale of Genji_, the _Romance of the Three Kingdoms,_ or several other books. My parents helped me with the Japanese; the Chinese sorta came with learning the kanji. I have no idea when they learned it, though.'

'So why'd they send you to Japan? Are they still in the States?'

'No. They're dead.' The words came out flat and toneless.

'Oh. I'm sorry. How'd they–Nevermind.' She broke off, finally connecting my name with the month-old news reports. 'I guess you're not in the mood for dating just now, are you?'

'Not really. Can we talk about something else?' The conversation moved on to the weekend's new movies, none of which sounded very good. There was yet another Godzilla movie, a handful of random martial arts films, a couple of animated things, and some chick flicks. My 'spiritual' advisors brought up the subject later that night.

[She's a beautiful girl, you know. And they do say there's only one way to comfort a widow. Some say it's true for all types of grief.]

Art thou suggesting they engage in carnal relations? Such a thing is a great sin! _Not to my goddess. Don't you two have better things to do than butt into my business? That's between me and her. Not you._

[Not really. One of the great disadvantages of being dead is that you can't do anything.] _I'm not discussing this anymore. I slammed the Gate shut and went to bed._

I was cooking dinner Thursday when the door bell rang. Satoka answered it while I turned the salmon steaks over. 'Mom! Dad! What are you doing here?'

The shock almost caused me to flip a steak into the soup. A rich female voice answered, 'To check up on you, dear. Your landlord told us you'd moved out and gave us this address. It seems to be a cozy little place. How ever did you find it on such short notice?'

'Um…actually, it's his.' I turned around to see Satoka pointing at me. Her mother was a slender woman, slightly shorter than her daughter, with the same large eyes and long limbs. Her father was muscular and tall, rather grim of face with red-tipped black hair. I put two more steaks on the stove before greeting them.

'Mr. and Mrs. Tachikawa?' They nodded. I introduced myself and bowed deeply, left fist to heart (_???That's Alex's way of bowing). 'Please, come in. We're having salmon with steamed vegetables and clam chowder tonight.' Satoka pulled two small suitcases in after them as I returned to the kitchen._

'I see you have a fine collection of spirits here. But you are underage, aren't you?' I looked up to find Mr. Tachikawa examining my liquor cabinet. It stood between my shrine to Athena and the TV.

'Please, help yourself. I inherited most of it from my parents. Some people collect stamps, other people collect baseball cards. My parents collected liquor. I keep it around for medicinal and religious purposes.' He poured himself a little whiskey as I turned my attention to the steaks.

After dinner, Mrs. Tachikawa said, 'I can see why Satoka's staying here if you do all the cooking.'

'Thank you. Can get you something to drink?' I looked around the table, but everyone shook his head.

'I understand why Satoka had to move our of her old apartment, but why did she move in with you?' Mr. Tachikawa cracked his knuckles as he asked this. Before I could start explaining, Satoka burst out.

'We're getting married! We were going to surprise you with it later, but you asked, so….' A discreet but very sharp elbow to my ribs dissuaded me from setting them straight.

'Congratulations, dear! I can see by your uniform that you're a junior. That makes you, what? Sixteen? Isn't that a bit young to be getting married?' She seemed to be taking it well.

'I'll be 18 in March. There were a few problems with my transfer to Tategami High–a few required courses that weren't taught in the States, a few credits they wouldn't accept; happens all the time to students who transfer overseas. I had Euclidean Geometry my ninth grade year with a senior from Korea. High school has four grades in that part of the country,' I added when they exchanged puzzled glances.

'I see. So how do your parents feel about this?' Her father seemed a bit more skeptical, though.

'They died about a month ago in an accident in Osaka. I stayed with my uncle here for a while, but I've been living on my own for a few weeks now.' A heavy silence fell across the table.

'Oh, I'm sorry. So, Satoka, tell us about the proposal and the ring. This is so sudden, thouh.' Mrs. Tachikawa tried to steer the conversation back to a lighter topic.

Before I could say we weren't engaged yet, just thinking about marriage, Satoka said, 'I guess it was love at first sight. We met in Osaka about a month ago when I was visiting you, and it turns out we're at the same high school here in Tokyo. He told me once that he had his own apartment, so I asked him if he could put me up for a while when I lost mine. That night, he just pulled a ring from his pocket and asked me to marry him. I'll show it to you later.' She kept a smooth face and a level voice throughout this blatant lie. Meanwhile, I had a growing urge to rip her tongue out by the roots. At least I had a few of my mother's rings and some other jewelry lying around.

To cover my rage, I asked the Tachikawas how long they were planning to stay in Tokyo. They replied, 'Well, since we thought Satoka would be living alone, we had planned to spend the weekend with her. But with you here….' I opened my mouth to offer them my room–the couch folded out into a bed–but Satoka beat me again.

'Oh, don't worry about that. You can stay in my room. I'll just stay with him for a few nights.' I had a Queen-sized bed–more because I rolled around in my sleep than because I expected to share it–so space wasn't a problem. The awkwardness of it was, though.

I said with false enthusiasm, 'So! Now that that's settled, let's get you moved in.' I towed the suitcases in while Satoka gathered some clothes, books, and personal items to move into my room. While she set up, I rifled through my mother's jewelry for a suitable ring. I settled on a small diamond solitare–I _was_ a bachelor in high school, after all–that she seemed to approve. Once she settled in, I told her, 'Grab a towel. We need to talk.' The bathroom was the only relatively soundproof room in the apartment–and I wasn't in a quiet mood.

While I waited for her to join me, I drew a hot bath. Galahad immediately launched into a sermon. Surely thou wouldst not condone such deceit? Marriage is a holy thing, not to be used in such a shameful manner. _It wasn't my idea. Go lecture _her_ about it._

[Get off it, Galahad. The world isn't what you remember. Divorce is common now; so are second, third, even fifth marriages. Besides, if I read her parents right, this is the only way to get them to accept their living arrangements.] 

Nonetheless, this is a most dishonourable means of gaining such acceptance.

[I was only joking, my dear/looking for a way to hide my fear. What kind of fool was I? I could never win…] _Alex, please don't sing. And what does that song have to do with anything?_

[Everything, in this case.]

The door opened and Satoka came in wearing a blue robe. As soon as the door closed behind her, I exploded. ' "We're getting married?!" What the hell were you thinking?!! That has to be the worst story I ever heard! Do you really expect them to believe it? Why can't you just tell them the truth? I swear, if they hadn't been sitting two feet from me, I would have throttled you on the spot! Can't you think of a better lie to tell them?

'You could have told them I was gay. You half-believe that anyhow. And my parents just died! You're making me look like some grieving loser seeking comfort in the first piece of tail he found. Gods below, I feel like I'm trapped in a bad movie or an old cartoon. At least I have a few months to get out of this.' I sank into the tub as I said the last sentence. The hot water helped calm my mind.

'Don't you have anything to say? Or are you just going to stand there staring all night? It's not like you haven't seen me like this before.'

'I'm sorry. I just panicked, I guess. My parents are very conservative; they aren't likely to approve of something like this. You saw how my father was even after I told him we were engaged. If they think we've had sex–and I don't think there's any way around that now–they'd force us to get married. Can't have you get away with taking advantage of their poor innocent daughter, after all.'

I grunted sourly. 'Me take advantage of you? It should be the other way around–you seducing some grieving boy to get your paws on his inheritance. Well, it's not like I have a few millions hidden away somewhere.'

'I might act like a moneygrubber sometimes, but I'm not that desperate. Now move over. I'm not going to stand here while you talk all night.'

It was a tight fit, but not too bad. I ignored my body's inevitable response to the situation. 'Engagements fall through all the time. I cheat on you, you cheat on me, I turn out to be a jobless bum…I'll think of some way to get out of this.'

'If I find out you've been sleeping around, I'll have to kill you–or Dad will. Nothing personal, it's just how he thinks.'

A bell rang from the speaker. 'Yes?' We called together.

We were answered by Mrs. Tachikawa's voice. 'So that's where you two are. I won't interrupt you, but please don't be too much longer. Other people need baths, too.' The speaker fell silent and we looked at each other for a long moment. Satoka's face was unreadable, but I groaned inwardly.

'So you don't want to marry me. Why? Am I ugly or something?'

'You're one of the most beautiful girls I've ever met. It's just well…I'm not ready to get married just now. I don't know if I ever will. Besides, I don't think anyone would accept a proposal like yours, so sudden and unromantic. I suppose it could be worse, though–you could have Miu's voice.' We both laughed at that. 'Come on. I don't think your parents will wait much longer.'

The moans and screaming from the other room kept me awake well past midnight. After about half an hour of trying to sleep, I gave up and opened my bettered copy of _The Romance of the Three Kingdoms_. Satoka stirred beside me when I turned the light on. 'So you can't sleep, either? Think we can be louder than they are?' She half-rolled on top of me. 'C'mon, you know you wanna try.' I could feel how she knew.

I firmly moved her hand away and said, 'Not all of me. Not tonight, at least.' I kissed her gently and returned to my book. The sound of other people having sex was never one of my turn-ons.

She rolled off me and sat silently for a while. Finally, she said, 'You know, it's kinda nice, sharing a room like this. Maybe we can turn my room into a nursery or something. We'll need one eventually.'

'Can we talk about kids later? Say, after I decide to marry you?' Her mind, at least, seemed to be made up. Though she was probably just carrying a bad joke too far.

I woke up the next morning when something hard hit me in the side of my head. It turned out to be Satoka's elbow. The clock read 5:55 AM, so I didn't bother trying to sleep again. [All you did was wreck my bed. And in the morning kicked me in the head…] _Alex, why are you singing that? And how did you get back into my head? _I'd shut the Gate the night before and hadn't opened it again.

[It seemed appropriate. And that Gate isn't all that hard to open from the other side once you know how it's done. I wouldn't try it if I didn't know that I'd just pop into your head, though.]

Satoka got up a few minutes later and we left her parents a note telling them to check out Tokyo on their own while we were at school. We went out to dinner at a small but very good Chinese place I'd found earlier that week. We talked about my plans for the future and what to name our first-born and things like that. I was a bit vague since I couldn't tell them everything about my job. I checked my email when we got home; I'd received one ordering me to report to the Company's Tokyo office on Wednesday to be briefed about an assignment the following Saturday. Satoka, at least, was quieter that night.

I had an odd dream: I found myself in a bright, airy palace furnished with Greek vases and statues. The furniture was well-made and beautiful, but very spare. A high-crested helm, bronze breastplate, shield, and spear were arranged on a stand at the far end of the room. A dark-haired woman sat in a chair by a low table near the hearth. She wore a loose dress in the Greek style. She motioned for me to take the other chair. Meat, bread, and golden cups stood on the table, along with a tall pitcher of some dark red liquid. As I sat down, I noticed that my hostess had grey eyes. She spoke to me in a rich, low voice. 'Welcome. You've served me well, so I thought we should meet. I don't have many guests now, and I know you need someone to talk to.'

'You honour me, Athena. I don't suppose you have any suggestions about the situation with Satoka?' She laughed.

'You of all people should know that I'm the last deity to be asking for advice about love, though my half-sister Artemis would be an even worse choice. Aphrodite might be a better source of advice. Though you probably know what she'd say.' I did know, and it was the opposite of what I was looking for. 'However, I can enlighten you about the power you wield. The shade of Galahad called it the Gate of Spirits. The spirits it summons were not chosen randomly–they are linked to you in many ways. I cannot tell you how, though; even the gods are subject to the decrees of Fate, and they have ruled that you must learn this for yourself.

'The Gates join this world to others–the energies that flow through them have many effects: healing; the creation of fire, ice, lightning, or winds; flight; and teleportation, among others. Your Gate connects to the realm of spirits, which itself has many regions. The armour you summon is created from the spirits' memories. If you were not destined for a warrior's life, the Gate's effects would be vastly different, but I do not know how. Each gate also has a negative phase, an inverse. In the case of the Gate of Life, that is simply the Gate of Death. However, for other Gates, it is more complex. Your Gate's inverse would give you access to the spirit realms. However, very few have entered those while still living and emerged alive.

'Using the Gates has a price, however. Some absorb the Gatekeeper's body, eventually killing them. Others reduce the Keeper to a bodiless shade by draining their "time." And all Gatekeepers have lives touched by dark Fate. To wield a Gate is to lose the hope of happiness. Not completely, but your life will never be as happy as other mortals'. I'm sorry if this upsets you.'

'No; I don't mind. It's almost a relief to learn even this much about it.' We moved on to other topics. Finally, the food and drink ran low and I felt it was time to leave. 

As we parted, she said, 'Call on me if ever you need help outside love.'

I woke to Satoka's gentle breathing and an alarm clock reading 6:30. I got up and made a cold breakfast for everyone before going out for a short walk. They were still asleep when I got back. We spent most of the day shopping and sightseeing­–well, the Tachikawas shopped; I was almost broke. Satoka and I saw her parents off at the station after dinner. When we got home, I collapsed on the couch and burned my face in my hands. After a few minutes, I noticed my hands were wet.

'Are you crying? Don't try to hold it in. That just makes it worse.' She sat down beside me and pried my hands off my face. Everything broke loose then. She held me like a child while I cried. It stopped after a while–a minute, an hour, and Age–and I noticed her shirt was soaked.

'Thanks….Seeing your parents together like that…it reminded me of how happy my parents were, and that I'll never see them again.'

I got up to get some brandy to steady my nerves. Satoka asked for a glass, and I brought the bottle back to the couch. We drank in silence for a while. She spoke up halfway through her second glass.

'Mom and Dad aren't exactly the happy couple you think they are. They fight all the time­–at least, they did while I was living with them. I moved out when I started high school; I discovered I was a Gatekeeper about the same time. They paid my rent, but not much else. I've been living off Invader-hunting the last few years. Slim pickings in Osaka, but it got better after I came to Tokyo last year.' She downed the rest of her brandy at a gulp and held her glass out for more. 

I woke up with the sun in my eyes and her on top of me. We were still dressed, so I assumed nothing had happened. The bottle on the table was only a little lower than I last remembered. I couldn't get up without waking her, so I went back to sleep. I woke to the sight of Satoka cooking Ramen. 'It's time for you to go shopping again. We're out of just about everything.'

'I'll do it today if you'll loan me a few thousand yen. I'm a bit low just now.' Truth was, I only had about 1500 yen ($100 or so) available to me.

'I'll go, then. You buy too many fruits and vegetables.' I saw a week of living on junk food and soda stretching out before me. She surprised me by returning late in the afternoon with a duck, a dozen peaches, and a jug of milk…and more varieties of chips and snacks than I'd ever imagined. The duck didn't fit in the freezer, so I roasted it for dinner that night.

On Tuesday, Satoka told me after school that there was someone she thought I should meet. She led me to a penthouse apartment in one of the most expensive districts. The owner was a thin, pale man with red eyes and grey hair. He introduced himself as he led us into the living room. It was a large and sparsely furnished room, containing a couch, low table, and a gigantic plasma-screen TV. 'I am Reiji Kageyama, Keeper of the Gate of Foresight and the Gate of Shadows. I also revived and financed this branch of A.E.G.I.S. The Alien Exterminating Global Interception System is an organization funded by a number of individuals like myself to defend against the Invaders. It was originally founded in the Sixties and supported by governments, but our need for secrecy made that a liability. Ms. Tachikawa, Ms. Isuzu, and Ms. Minadzuru have told me much about you.' I raised an eyebrow and Satoka flushed. Kageyama continued, 'Nothing private, just accounts of your encounters with Invaders. By the way, have you attempted the voyage to Colchis?'

I froze–that was one of the Company's sign-countersigns. I responded, 'No. The way is long, and I am a poor sailor. How did you know to ask that?'

'I own 25% of that Company, and I serve on the Board. That gives me access to most of their files and data. Your parents, and their colleagues, were one of the main reasons A.E.G.I.S. has survived.'

'You mean my bounty comes from car rentals?!' 

Kageyama laughed. 'Rental cars? Is that what you told her the Company does? It's true in a way, I suppose. Actually, it provides security for the wealthy–bodyguards, storage vaults, surveillance, and, yes, transportation. I'm currently negotiating a licensing agreement with them for imitation Gate technology. I suppose I should tell you more about that.

'In the decades since the Gates were discovered, we have learned how to mimic and enhance their effects with technology. They've served as power sources for cars, weapons, and instruments of healing. The Gates of Fire, Lightning, Perception, Explosion, and Life are among those that have been imitated so far. A.E.G.I.S. scientists are currently making progress on the Gate of Shadows, the Gate of Teleportation, and the Gate of Flight. However, some Gates appear inimitable, such as my Gate of Foresight, and possibly your Gate of Spirits. Here. You'll find this very useful. The imitation Gate can only be used once at combat levels. The intense energies tend to fuse the phone's circuits. Even at lower levels, the battery only lasts a few seconds.' He handed me what seemed to be an ordinary cellphone and a plastic ID card reading 'A.E.G.I.S. Invader Hunting License.'

'That license is good in every country. You'll need it to claim the bounty on crystals. The website on the back contains contact information for branches in every major city. And here are our files on the last known Gatekeeper of Spirits.' He gave me a minidisk.

That more or less ended the meeting. On our way home, Satoka asked me, 'Why didn't you tell me about your real job? I suppose the guns, body armour, and suit should've given it away, though.'

'Our clients value confidentiality, so the Company is rather secretive. Don't be surprised if I'm out all night a lot.'

I read the data Kageyama had given me that night. Marcus Sheridan was the previous Gatekeeper of Spirits. He had been part of the British Isles branch of A.E.G.I.S. during the mid-Seventies. The first spirit he'd summoned was Galahad; the armour was the same. No one knew what the other spirit was…Leo had been the only suit anyone ever saw him in. He'd died during a battle in 1977. His remains were recovered from a giant crater formed by the gigantic explosion that ended his battle. The only other Gatekeeper present, Jack Watson, Gatekeeper of Teleport, reported that Marcus had ordered him to leave as the battle began.

On Wednesday, I headed downtown for my briefing. A Mr. Konno was waiting for me in a small meeting room. He was a short, heavyset man with graying hair who spoke rapidly in clipped tones. 'The client is one Mariko Nodara, a singer, age 17. She requires an escort/bodyguard to the Japanese Video Music Awards this Saturday night. Formal dress, full body armour, concealed weapon. Your cover story and other pertinent details are on this disk. Any questions?'

'No, sir.' I'd never heard of Mariko Nodara, but I didn't want to sound stupid.

'Good. This is a list of equipment you'll need. Q-Division should have it ready for you. Here's the advance on your pay, 1/6 of our standard fee; the other half will be paid Saturday.' He handed me a check with a fairly large number on it.

'Thank you, sir. I would have thought you'd give her a discount for my inexperience, though.'

'We did. But there were surcharges for her...exacting demands and for late booking.'

I picked up a flesh-coloured throat mike, radio, earpiece (it looked like a hearing aid), and a few extra boxes of ammo. Aunt Yoko asked me to stay for tea, since she had no other appointments and I was free. After our first cup, she asked, 'Have you ever heard how I met you parents?'

I shook my head, and she continued, 'It was just over 19 years ago. Your mother had just graduated from high school, and you father was a freshman in college. They'd decided to travel together over the summer and rented rooms in my home while they were in Japan. That was an exciting summer. Before they left, they were engaged and Company employees. Your father dropped out of college to become a full-time agent by the end of the year. They got married in March the next year, and you were born a year after that.'

The conversation drifted on to other topics: her health, her grandchildren, school, and Satoka. 'She sounds like a nice girl, and you're both at a good age to thing about marriage. I hope you two have a happy life together.'

'We're not really engaged, Aunt Yoko. It was just her way to get her parents to accept the fact that we're living together.'

'Well, if you change you're mind, I'll give you a deal on your honeymoon at my house in Kyoto.'

'Thank you, Aunt Yoko. I have to get going now; I'm sorry, but if I don't get home soon, Satoka will start cooking.'

Saturday afternoon, a black limousine picked me up outside my apartment and took me to one of the most expensive hotels in Tokyo. Ms. Nodara was in room 40-A, one of two penthouse suites that took up the top floor. She was a waifish girl with long black hair and relatively large eyes, maybe an inch or two shorter than me. I introduced myself as her bodyguard for the evening. The first words out of her mouth were, 'You're too tall. I told them not to send me anyone taller than me.'

I replied evenly, 'The only available agents of your height are a fifty year-old man and a thirty-five year-old woman. If you would prefer one of them, I'll call headquarters and inform them of your decision.'

'I can't go to the show with an old man! I guess you'll do, then. But not your suit. Who wears black to an award show?'

'It's by Giordano Verce.' He was an Italian armorer/tailor who specialized in integrated defense. The suit was designed for body armour, comm. Gear, and weapons to be carried undetected under it. Strategically placed padding and pockets made this possible. 'That reminds me: I have a corsage for you.'

I pulled a blue and red orchid from an inside pocket. It matched the green dress she'd told the Company she'd be wearing.

'If that suit isn't from a warehouse store, I'll eat my shoes. Can't help it now, though. We might as well try to make you presentable. Make-up!'

A swarm of men and women in garishly bright clothing instantly appeared from a side door, some pushing carts laden with cosmetics, others wielding brushes and pencils. As they approached, I opened my jacket to reveal my guns. 'I don't wear make-up. Allergies. And I think you'll develop a lead allergy if you try putting any one me.'

They got the point and immediately withdrew to attend their mistress. I left the room to find something to eat. The kitchen was a large, airy chamber with a fridge larger than some cars. A very well-stocked fridge larger than some cars. Around six, a call came over the radio for me to report to the garage: Ms. Nodara was preparing to leave. I joined her in the limo and we arrived at the site of the J-VMAs fifteen minutes later. Her green dress was very low-cut, but otherwise quite unremarkable. Before the door opened, she reminded me, 'Remember, walk slowly. We need to let the photographers get plenty of pictures of me.'

As I helped her from the limo, a dozen microphones were thrust in my face. 'Who are you? What's your relationship with Mariko? How long have you been together? How'd you meet?...'

'I was a dancer in her latest video. Unfortunately, all of my shots were edited out of the final version. We're just friends; she needed an escort and I've always wanted to walk the red carpet.' The questions and flashbulbs kept coming as we practically crawled down the endless carpet. Alex commented, [That's odd…There's a very faint energy field of some sort in the area, definitely not natural, but I can't quite put my finger on what it is. It seems familiar, though.]

When we were about halfway to the theater entrance, a crowd of celebrities and security personnel stampeded back down the carpet. People in the stands were screaming and joining the flood. I grabbed Nodara to keep her from being trampled–not that I cared personally, but losing client was a bad way to begin a career. As the rear of the crowd drew closer to us, I could see a mass of Invaders behind them. 'Damn! Get back to the car! Run!'

I pushed her away and pulled two grenades from inside my jacket. I threw them into the center of the Invader horde as I ran to help Nodara back to the limo. A moment later, the concussion almost knocked us off our feet and we were pelted by a shower of crystals. We stumbled a few more yards to the car. I shoved her in and turned to throw my remaining two grenades into the pursuing Invader pack. I slammed the door behind me and ordered, 'Driver, get us back to the hotel. And step on it!'

Nodara couched shivering and sobbing on the far side of the seat as the limo began to roll. The man at the wheel suddenly convulsed and twisted into the shape of an Invader. I shot him before he turned around. The car's interior began to take on a more organic look, almost like fresh tripe or liver. The engine's hum became a bestial growl. _Alex, can you tell what's going on?_ [I think this car is changing into something along the lines of those things out there. I'd recommend shooting the engine out.]

I aimed in the general direction of the hood. Just before I pulled the trigger, a red blur sailed through the air between me and Nodara. The former limo fell into two halves that dissolved to form a larger than average crystal. We fell to the ground. Satoka stood a few yards in front of us, grinning as she caught a large and curiously shaped boomerang. 'Nice job you've got: you're on TV, you meet the stars, maybe get a little action.'

Nodara demanded, 'Who is this?'

'That's my roommate. Now get out of our way if you want to live.' A volley of pink rings smashed the pavement around us into rubble. Nodara fell, but Satoka and I kept our feet. Nodara crawled behind the burned out remains of another limo as Satoka threw her boomerang into the Invaders' lines.

'So, why aren't Ayane and Miu here?' As the weapon returned, I shot down three Invaders that had emerged from a storefront behind us.

'There was another IPW hotspot on the other side of town–another Invader attack,' she added in response to my blank look.

'Ah.' She charged into the pack, drawing her giant sword as she ran. I provided cover fire, taking out Invaders behind her and on her flanks. I was down to my last magazine by the time she decapitated the last one. The three of us gathered at Nodara's hiding place when it was all over.

'The car's gone. Now how am I supposed to get back to the hotel?' Nodara seemed upset.

'I can call headquarters and have them send one.' [Get down!] I tackled Nodara to the ground as a hail of cannon fire hit from above. Satoka's giant sword deflected the pink shots around her.

'What was that?' asked Satoka. I pointed upwards–what seemed to be an oversized B-2 was turning around for another pass. There was only one way either of us could take it down.

'Scorpio, come forth!' The disk of white light appeared at my feet and moved up. When it passed, I was surrounded by the armour's viewsrceens. Alex began interpreting sensor readings. [Altitude 1.5 kilometers. Dimensions 100x50 meters, thickness variable. Major energy sources aft and on ventral surface. Composition: mostly organics with scattered areas of metallic alloys.]

'Cover her.' I extended the shield and removed it from my arm. I handed it to Satoka before taking off. A second salvo from above cut off her protests.

As I approached the flying wing, cannon on its belly and back opened fire. I found that Scorpio had a slight delay in obeying my orders–just enough to make it nearly impossible to dodge the shells. Fortunately, the wing was a hideously bad shot. As I got closer, the sensors began to get a clearer image of its innards. [Hmmm…this thing appears to have a decentralized control system. There's no single 'brain' to target. Wait a minute. I have an idea. It's kinda risky, though.] He explained it, and it _was_ kinda crazy. But I didn't have a better plan.

I flew around to the aft end of the machine and landed above what appeared to be an engine. Fortunately, the cannon on its back couldn't aim at something walking on it. I pulled a cylinder from my waist and unfolded it into a falchion. I chopped a hole in the wing's hide to expose something that crackled with what seemed to be lightning. I pulled a second cylinder from my waist, twisted the knob on top, threw it in, and jumped.

A few seconds later, I was hit by a massive shockwave. I spun around to find the rear half of the flying wing in flames. Secondary explosions tore though the wing as I watched. A shower of crystals fell as I landed. 'Scorpio, return.'

'There has to be at least a million yen's worth here!' Satoka pulled a trash bag from her pocket and began gathering the crystals. The three of us were the only ones left in front of the theater. The street was almost completely destroyed, but the buildings still stood intact. I tapped my throat mike to activate it. 

The operator asked me to identify myself. I did and requested, 'Put me through to the motor pool. Thanks….My client, Ms. Nodara, needs a ride home from the J-VMAs–her limo was destroyed in the incident. The street's been torn up pretty badly, so a Hummer would probably be best. Thank you.' I turned to Nodara and said, 'Your ride will be here in ten minutes to take you back to the hotel. Are you alright?'

'You almost got me killed!'

'But you're still alive. That's more than some can say after tonight. Satoka , can you get home on your own? I need to make a report about what happened tonight.' She grunted and kept sweeping up crystals with her sword.

Half an hour later, Nodara was in her hotel room and I was in a debriefing room at headquarters. I told the debriefing officer what had happened, omitting only my Gate and the flying wing. When I was done, she said Mr. Yamamoto wanted to see me.

'I watched your debriefing, and I have a feeling that you're leaving something out. Can you tell me what it is, off the record?'

I explained about my Gate, Scorpio, and the flying Invader construct. 'I see. We've had reports of these "Invaders" dating back to the mid-Sixties. We are also aware that Mr. Kageyama, one of out major stockholders, is somehow involved with them. This disk contains everything we know about them and those who fight them. It also contains extracts from X-Division's files. Many of our agents in that Division have magical talents of one kind or another.'

X-Division…that branch dealt with supernatural threats–werewolves, vampires, ghosts, and sorcerers. They would definitely have had a use for my Gate. 'Thank you, sir.'

'By the way, have you ever heard how your parents came to join the Company? It was almost twenty years ago. I was just a field agent then, but I'd disrupted several assassination attempts on one of our clients. The Mob came after me as a result. They ambushed me one night in a park. The gunfire drew a young couple who drove off or killed my attackers. I introduced them to my supervisor, and they were hired within a week.' The receptionist gave me the other half of my pay as I left, and I obtained a few more boxes of ammo from Q-Division on my way out. Satoka was asleep when I got home.

I was cooking omelets Sunday morning when the doorbell rang. A very angry Mr. Tachikawa was standing outside my door. I opened it anyway. 'You two-timing bastard! If you think you can treat my daughter that way, I'll beat some sense into your head.'

'If you're talking about the J-VMAs last night, that was just business.'

'My daughter's marrying a gigolo?!'

Satoka shambled out of our room. 'Can you keep it down? It's 7:30 in the morning. Dad! What are you doing here?'

'Go back to bed, honey. I'm just here to deal with this cheating fiancé of yours.'

'If he's cheating one me, I'll deal with him. How did you find out about this, anyway?'

'I saw him on TV with that whore Mariko Nodara last night!'

'Dad, he was there as her bodyguard. There's nothing between them.' He flushed and dropped his eyes in embarrassment

'Oh, I'm sorry for disturbing you. I'll be going now.'

'Please, come in. Since you're here, you might as well stay for breakfast. It's a long trip from Osaka.' I cracked another egg for an extra omelet and Satoka returned to her room to change. It was a very quiet meal.

**Please read these. They contain answers to the more obvious questions, like my random references to books, songs, TV shows, and movies. They're arranged in the order of events in the chapter. Questions left in reviews will be answered in emails unless I'm very close to updating. In that case, I'll answer them in notes. **

**To Reviewers:**

Dark Bring: There are several stereotypical ways for characters to deal with grief. The first is an insane desire for revenge (e.g., Achilles after the death of Patroclus) . Another is insanity (Belgarath after Polgara's birth; his wife Poledra died in childbirth). Yet another is collapsing into a deep depression. There's also substance abuse, especially alcohol. There are others, but I've chosen to just have him withdraw into a sort of emotionally dead state…One example is from David Eddings' _Belgariad/Mallorean series, Zakath after his fiancé was murdered. Alex just has another style of armour, more tech-based than magical…he's the main character from my 'Requiem Knight' fic (well, not _this_ Alex, but one very similar to him; see my note to chapter 2…click my name, or check the Silent Mobius section). Alex is a mage, not a spectacularly powerful one, but very skilled. I explain his origins in the notes to the final chapter of that fic. Galahad is just a Medieval knight, very devout and pious (if you've read much stuff about King Arthur and his knights you'd understand). Tokyo Knight takes place one year after the events of the OVA (ie, Yukino is dead); this, and some other chronology changes are detailed in my notes to chapter 2. And yes, the narrator's the only new Gatekeeper I'm introducing. I'm too lazy to create more than one or two detailed characters per fic, though that will probably change soon. This fic will be pretty serious, and even slightly depressing. For some reason this character just isn't as good for comic relief as Alex. Oh, and please define 'WAFFy.'_

**Notes: I suppose you think it's strange that a good marksman is so bad at "House of the Dead." Remember that he's used to the weight and kick of real guns. Flimsy plastic light guns would probably feel kinda odd at first.**

 Homer wrote the _Iliad and _Odyssey_. Sir Thomas Mallory wrote _Le Morte D'Arthur_, a fairly comprehensive collection of tales about King Arthur. Chretian de Troyes wrote several 'Romances' about various Knights of the Round Table ('Romance' was just the term for tales about knights and chivalry), including 'Percival,' the oldest surviving Grail story._

The _Tale of Genji is an old Japanese story…I don't know much about it except the title. The __Romance of the Three Kingdoms is a fictional account of the end of the Han Dynasty. Very famous out East. The narrator has no clue how to pronounce Chinese, but he can understand the characters since the Japanese borrowed them a few centuries back and never returned them._

The arrival of Satoka's parents was supposed to set up a gag chapter centered on one of the great anime clichés, the (not-so) fake marriage. At one point, I had Satoka move in because her parents were killed when an Invader destroyed her apartment trying to kill her…I scrapped that idea, obviously. The living parents were more interesting.

For those of you who don't know this, high school in Japan has three grades: 10-12. And I did have classmates in high school who transferred from other countries or states who had to take lower-level courses in their junior and senior years. Oh, and let's just say that students at T. High wear some sort of small insignia indicating their class.

'Gods below' is an oath from the _Dune series by Frank Herbert. Great books, read at least the first one. Anyway, it's also Alex's favourite oath._

…Even guys have times when they don't feel like doing it. Especially when they're depressed or something. I'm not going to bother describing Satoka naked. I'm sure you guys (and gals) out there already have a fairly good idea.

For those who are illiterate, Athena was the Greek goddess who patronized craftsmen and warriors; don't piss her off (cf. Arachne, Medusa, and Troy). She's one of those virgin goddesses who pop up from time to time. Artemis was an archer goddess, a huntress; bit of a man-hater. Aphrodite was the goddess of love, especially sexual love. I personally think Paris should have taken Athena's bribe (wisdom and victory in battle) over Hera's (a really big kingdom) and Aphrodite's (Helen, the most beautiful woman in the world; married to Menelaus of Sparta…with legions of former suitors sworn to retrieve her if she were ever abducted). Winning lots of battles could give you a kingdom larger than the one Hera promised; and Helen would be part of the spoils once Sparta fell (yes, the Greeks did do that; read the _Iliad_). But that's just me…and there's no telling what Hera and Aphrodite would have done in retaliation. Lifelong impotence would probably be part of it.

Don't think too much about the inverse of the Gate of Spirits. It will NEVER appear in this fic. It's just spare data.

Brandy was the standard treatment for faintness and general nervousness some years ago. It's a common feature in Victorian novels (I've only read some Sherlock Holmes stories and _Dracula…and maybe some other things from that period, but brandy is the spirit of choice for reviving someone). He's not using a particularly large glass…maybe three or four times the size of a shot-glass._

About Satoka's past…I had to come up with some reason for her to be living on her own. It's not exactly tragic, but it's not particularly happy, either. It also explains her greed for crystals.

Oh, Reiji's apartment isn't the one you see in the OVA; that one was practically destroyed by Ghost Girl, so he moved out.

I'm just making up the A.E.G.I.S. stuff…it's more or less consistent with what I know about the history of the Gatekeepers. As for Reiji's stake in the Company, hey, he has to have some source of income. His ability to see the future would make him a great investor, and the perks are good with that investment.

Marcus isn't important. He exists only to fill out Galahad's mention of a previous Gatekeeper of Spirit back in Chapter 1.

Yeah, I can't make up an award ceremony name…I'm not good with names in general. But the J-VMAs have nothing to do with MTV's award show. Incidentally, I don't know any Japanese pop stars, so I made one up. Think Britney Spears clothes with black hair and an anorexic build.

19 years before this story opens is 1983…I have no clue what was going on at that time in the Gatekeepers universe, but just assume it's the usual randomness. This makes the narrator's father about 37 or so when he died; his wife was 36…I know I said  he was in his 'mid-30s', but that's how it works out. The narrator's birthday is March 21, 1985 if anyone cares. 

Aunt Yoko is very old…still sharp, but her views on marriage are rather peculiar. She owns several houses around Japan that she runs as hotels. Not a bad sideline.

The reason the narrator refers to Reiji as Kageyama and Mariko as Nodara is because he's not that close, nor does he want to get that close, to either of them.

In case you're wondering, he has four grenades, about a hundred rounds of ammo, and a large knife. They're very powerful grenades. Incidentally, if Invaders can die in car wrecks (cf. Episode 1 of the OVA), they can die from gunshots.

The B-2 is the American 'Stealth Bomber.' Big black flying wing with an indented trailing edge. Very expensive.

Yes, I know Satoka can kill things at a distance…and things flying moderately high up (cf. Episode 6 of the OVA), but not something a mile high and not something that big.

The falchion is a form of sword. It typically has a heavy blade with a single curved cutting edge and a straight back. Very good for cutting off limbs and such. A weapon with great peacetime applications.

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update, but I've been busy lately. Also, as you've probably noticed, this is one long chapter. It's a result of the fact that I write these by deciding what I want to happen and then kind of wandering through that. In this case, I wanted to have Satoka's parents show up and have the battle at the award show. You might have noticed that most of these chapters end with a battle. That's because I used the 'Voltron' principle for planning the chapters–I select an enemy for each chapter and write around that. The next chapter will probably extend after the battle quite a ways, though. One minor spoiler: it won't be related to the Invaders, but it will give 'screen-time' to one of the neglected characters.

I suppose I could have just gone all the way and made this a true lemon, but it just didn't feel right…and no one would bother looking at the R-rated section of GK21 fics (empty) and this is out there for you guys to read. So remember, if it's missing when you log in a few weeks from now, try looking at the R-rated fics (unlikely, but I have little control of future content).

Farewell for now.


	5. Legacy

It's been a while, no? Thank you for your patience…feel free to ignore the notes this time; they're just my incoherent babbling. Incidentally, if you want a timely response to questions, please either leave a signed review or an email address. *cough*Silent Knight *cough*

Anyway, here's a nice stereotypically bad Halloween story for you. Though I'd been planning it ever since I decided to have Galahad in this fic for reasons that should become obvious as you read.

Part V: Legacy

'No. I am not writing your _Iliad paper for you.'_

'C'mon, please? If I don't get a good grade on this, I'll fail the class and get held back a year.'

'Write it yourself. I have a paper on _Beowulf_ coming up and I don't have time to write two papers.'

'How 'bout we settle this over a hand of five card draw?' Satoka smiled and pulled out her deck. She nearly always won at poker.

'Make it blackjack and you're on. _If you agree to pay the rent next month if you lose.' We were about even at blackjack; and I needed to get __something out of it if I won._

'Fine. But I'll need a little something extra if I win. I'll tell you what it is after the game.' She dealt two cards face-up: a three for me and a five for her. My hole card was a seven.

'Hit me.' A ten–that made twenty, enough to win most hands. She also took another card­–an ace. I turned my seven over with a small smile. She grinned maliciously as she revealed another five–twenty-one.

'The paper's due on the twenty-fifth, two weeks from Friday. Oh, and that other thing…' She whispered it in my ear. I didn't like it, but I had agreed to the bet. She'd helped me quash the rumours about me and Nodara after the J-VMAs, and I didn't want to start a second argument over the paper. She still hadn't moved back into her room, but she had been a bit less aggressive lately.

'Do I have to wear this?' I grunted as Satoka pulled at a stubborn strap while dressing me Friday morning.

'Of course you do. It's part of the outfit. You have any idea how hard it was to find one in this size? There.' The catch snapped. She buttoned a shirt and jacket on me. 'Now go shave and brush your hair.

The razor was getting dull, so I threw it way. I noticed a small pink wrapper in the trash can. _So that's why she's been so touchy the last few days…and why she isn't trying to get me into her pants. I unwrapped a new razor and lathered up._

'And don't forget your legs!' Satoka called through the speaker. I ignored her. The socks were high enough that it didn't matter.

We ran into Kenichii and Masaharu at the school's gates. They burst out laughing as soon as they saw me. Once they began to breathe again, I said in a tight voice, 'All of my uniforms need to be washed, and we happen to be the same size.'

Satoka nudged me. I sighed and corrected myself. 'I lost a bet.'

The uniform was incredibly drafty in the air-conditioned building; the short skirt ruled out boxers. The red-headed math teacher spent the morning trying to hold back her laughs. My classmates didn't even try. The other teachers just tried to pretend I was dressed normally while occasionally glancing in my direction and smiling before regaining control of themselves. I suspected that the overstuffed D-cup bra straining at my shirt had something to do with it.

I changed into a T-shirt and sweatpants as soon as I got home. After I put the ribs in the oven, I started going over Satoka's old papers to get a feel for her style. She came in with a broad grin on her face that faded slightly when she saw that I'd changed. 

'What are you doing for the winter break?' she asked me over dinner.

'Why're you asking that now? It's not even Halloween yet.' She just waited for an answer. 'Well, my relatives in Taiwan have been asking me to visit them for years. They've already started the paperwork, but they should be able to get another visa if you want to come.'

'You have relatives in Taiwan? I thought you came from the U.S.'

'I may not cook like it, but my family's originally from Szechuan. We were fairly well off before the civil wars and the war with Japan. But between bandits and battles, only my grandparents and one of my granddad's brothers survived to 1950. We had enough property–and Nationalist connexions–that we had to flee when the Communists took power. My grandparents went south to Hong Kong, then to England. The immigration officials there changed their name. My father went to college in the States and met my mother there, but they were married in Japan. My uncle moved here about the same time. Granddad wasn't happy about him marrying my aunt, but he got over it after a while–hard not to, with a daughter-in-law as nice as she is.

'My great-uncle followed the Nationalist retreat to Taiwan. Most of his family lives in Taipei, but I have a few cousins in Tainan, too. A few of them came to my parents' funeral, but I don't really know any of them and they want to fix that. So what are your plans for Christmas?'

'I don't really have any. I just wanted to know what yours were.'

'Well, if you want to come along, we'll need to send the visa application in within a week or so. I think I have an extra copy somewhere.'

'It'd be better than visiting my parents or hanging around here by myself.' The application was in the mail the next day.

'A romantic little get-away in Taiwan. Just how I always wanted to spend Christmas,' I muttered to myself as I soaked in the tub. [Who knows? It may be more fun than you think. The two of you alone in a strange city…you might get 'closer than close,' if you know what I mean.] Perchance, it may be a time to make her thine betrothed in truth.

_That again? There's nothing between us. Nothing that could lead to a wedding, anyway._ There may be more than thou thinkest. It is not uncommon for husband and wife to learn they love one another only after they're wed.

_Maybe in your time, but arranged marriages have fallen out of style lately._ _We prefer to find out if we love each other first. And how dost thou know thou dost not love her? Wouldst thou have permitted her to reside here an thou hated her?_

_That's different. She'd just lost her home. Should I have just left her to live in the street? She's just staying here until she can find her own place._ [Have you seen her even pick up the classifieds?]  It was chivalrous of thee to take her in, but it is most dishonourable to deceive her parents in this way.

_Yeah? Well, ending the deception would just create more trouble for the two of us._ Yet making it truth will not. The choice is thine, and hers, though methinks her choice hath already been made. I shall leave this to thee and speak no more. [If I stand all alone, will the shadows hide the colour of my heart: blue, for the tears; black, for the night's fears. The stars in the sky don't mean nothing to you, they're a mirror.]

_What does that moldy old song have to do with this?_ [Nothing…and everything.] With that, I closed the Gate and went to bed.

I spent most of the next week trying to write a cogent paper that sounded like Satoka–a Satoka who'd spent several thousand yen on a writing coach. My own paper had been completed almost as soon as we'd started _Beowulf_.  Her paper was done by the 18th. I received an email that night informing me of an assignment on Saturday the 26th–an American singer (Martin Tyler) on tour in Tokyo needed a discreet escort for clubbing that night.

The week after that passed slowly, with a string of tests in each class. The stores had begun setting out Halloween displays: costumes and random new junk foods made for the season, mostly, though the theaters did start showing more slasher flicks. Late Wednesday night, Satoka dragged home a gigantic bag of crystals and collapsed on the couch.

'Rough night?' I brought her some tea and sat down beside her.

'Yeah. I was coming home from the arcade–there's a shortcut through that parking deck a few blocks over, you know? Anyway, about thirty Invaders appeared while I was on the stairs. I shredded them and went on. Then some sort of slimy, tentacled bug things attacked me on the ground floor…dozens of them. It wasn't easy, but I got at least too hundred thousand yen out of them.' She hefted the bag. 'So how was your day?'

'History test, and I almost got run over by a bus. Then some bastard tried to push me onto the tracks at the station. All the networks are running soap opera reruns or kids' shows marathons, so nothing's on. And I have a physics test tomorrow.'

'I can help you forget all about that.' She moved closer to me, almost onto my lap. I took her face in my hands.

'Why are you trying so hard to get me into your pants? Most of the guys at school would kill for a chance like this, but you'd kill them for trying. Why me, the one guy who turns you down?' She rolled back with a disappointed look on her face.

'You just had to put it that way, didn't you? I guess some of it comes from the fact that the girls at school laugh at me for not having a boyfriend­–they say I can't catch a man or that I'm in love with Ayane since we're together so often and she hates boys. Most of the guys I know just want one thing. You're different; you want something more, or something else. It makes playing with you more interesting.'

'Have you ever heard what the other girls say about the ones who do "catch" a lot of men?' She nodded slowly. 'It wouldn't change anything with them; they'd just attack you for something else. You may be right about me, but I don't know what I want–it might be something you can't give. Let's talk about this later. You're tired, I'm half-asleep, and we both need to think.'

She went into the bathroom, and I went to bed. I woke up with her arms around me. I pulled free gently and started breakfast in the kitchen.

 'What do I want?' I asked the stove flames. The answer came back from the dark spaces in the back of my head: I wanted a home, a family–not children, necessarily, but some sort of permanence in my life. I knew that my career would probably take me around the world, and I needed something to anchor my life to. And it took thee this long to admit it? _I never said that she would be part of it. Questioning silence answered me._

Despite myself, I sighed. Galahad was right–Satoka and I were almost a family. She just saw it a little differently. This knowledge settled something in the depths of my mind, but it did little to comfort me. Satoka came out just as the sausages were done. She shambled to the _kotatsu_ and asked me, 'So, have you decided what you want?'

'Yes. I want what we have now, maybe a little more…maybe even kids someday.' I bent down to kiss her as I set the table. She returned it with more vigour than I would have credited her with at that hour. When she broke away to breathe, I said, 'We should eat before the eggs get cold. I'll make it up to you later. Besides, our train leaves in twenty minutes.'

Satoka jerked fully awake and practically inhaled her breakfast. Once it was down, she dashed into her room to get dressed, emerging a few minutes later pulling her jacket on at a dead run. Her toothbrush hung from the corner of her mouth, spilling foam on the floor. I laughed and pointed at the clock–it read 6:30. We had another half-hour or so. She growled in a decidedly non-sexual manner and tackled me to the ground.

'You bastard!' she shrieked as she pounded my laughing head into the carpet. She calmed down and let me up after a few minutes of this. As I ate, she asked, 'So when do you want the wedding? You weren't planning to just ditch me with kids to raise on my own, were your?' she added in response to the slackjawed gape I gave her.

'Of…of course not. I just haven't thought that far yet. Let's save this for after school. This isn't something we can settle in ten minutes.'

As we walked through Tategami High's gates, I noticed two almost-identical girls chatting under a tree in the courtyard. Satoka groaned when they spotted us and came over. 'Ugh. That's Fujiko Aoyama and Ochiba Konno, the two biggest gossips in the school.'

She didn't have time to say more, as Fujiko sneered, 'So, you finally found a man, Satoka? Doesn't look like much of a catch, though.'

Her friend–Ochiba had green eyes; Fujiko's were black–joined in, 'Say, weren't you with Mariko Nodara at the J-VMAs a few weeks ago? What'd you two do after the bomb went off?'

'We're just friends. I kept her from getting blown to bits, that's all.'

Ochiba didn't buy it. 'So who's better in the sack–Satoka or Mariko?'

Satoka flushed and I grabbed her arm to keep her from doing something rash (and probably bloody) as I replied, 'I wouldn't know. I never slept with Mariko.'

'So how's Satoka, then?' Fujiko pressed the issue and I briefly considered unleashing Satoka. Instead, I answered, 'If you want to know so badly, find out for yourself. Just try to keep it quiet; I need my sleep at night.' I dragged Satoka behind me as I left; foam was showing on her lips again.

The physics test that afternoon was long, but it was pretty easy with Alex coaching me. I still had a chemistry test on Friday and the _Beowulf_ paper was also due that day. Satoka was waiting for me when I got home. 'Well? Do you have an answer for me yet? It's already been three weeks.'

It took me a moment to figure out what she meant. 'You actually consider that a proposal? I was just kidding when I called it that. Anyway, I guess the answer's "yes" for now. The wedding will have to wait 'till summer at the earliest. I don't think we'll have time for rehearsals and stuff while school's in session.'

'There's no rush. By the way, are you one of those stiff-necked types who believe that sex before marriage is wrong?'

'Not really…I haven't thought about it, honestly. Why do you ask?'

She just smiled–not quite maliciously, but it still made me uncomfortable.

That night, I found myself back in Athena's palace. My grey-eyed hostess was again garbed in a plain dress instead of Her usual armour. A bowl of dark wine and plates of food stood on the table. She held out a handful of olives as I sat down. 'Thank you, Athena.' I took one out of politeness; She knew I hated the things.

'I'm glad to know that you and Satoka have worked things out between you. She's a good match for you–fire against your ice. I wish you every joy in your life together.'

'I'm still not sure she's the one for me, but it's worth a try. You didn't bring me here just to talk about her, though. What's on Your mind?'

'Can you not believe that I just want to talk to you? I don't have many worshippers in this age, or many duties.'

'I see. So how's Your love life been lately?' The question took Her by surprise–She froze with the cup halfway to Her lips–but She recovered quickly.

'Same as always. The armour seems to intimidate men for some reason. Still, I have to throw Ares through a wall every month or so. I don't know what Aphrodite seems in that idiot.'

'Probably the same thing I see in Satoka.'

She laughed. 'No, there's more to Satoka than bloodthirst and violence. You wouldn't love her otherwise.'

'I don–' I began defensively.

Athena cut me off with a gentle gesture. 'Your mouth may deny it, but your heart knows how you feel.'

'I thought you knew nothing of love.'

'I've learned a little from watching the other gods and mortals below. I don't know enough to give advice on it, but I can recognize it.' The conversation drifted on to sports, politics, and why Hollywood blockbusters tend to suck after the first viewing. As Dawn appeared in the east, we drank a final cup and parted. I woke to Satoka shaking me violently, shouting that we'd be late for class if I didn't get up. The day didn't get much better–rain, another test, and almost getting run over by yet another car. _At least I don't have homework over the weekend._

Martin Tyler played a noon concert on Saturday. His style reminded me of some stuff I'd heard from the 60s and 70s, kinda plain but very nice. I watched from backstage, ready to follow him after the show. At dinner, he introduced me as a friend who'd volunteered to translate for him. He was a pretty funny guy, actually. We went to almost every club in Tokyo and got hideously plastered…at least he did. I was still able to walk when we got back to his hotel. The microwave clock read just after 3 AM when I staggered home and flopped on the couch.

When I woke up, the sun was in my eyes and Satoka was in the kitchen mixing herbs in a cup. My head felt like a smith's anvil. She poured steaming water in the cup and held it out to me. 'Drink this. It's an old hangover remedy Mom used to make for Dad.' It tasted like it was also a punishment for getting drunk, but it did make my headache go away. 

Monday dawned dreary and overcast and we were out of eggs. Class was as boring as ever, especially English. We started organics in chemistry with its arcane names and foul-smelling solvents. Fujiko and Ochiba were ahead of me as I walked through the gates after class. 'So what've you got on that guy we saw with Satoka the other day?'

'Not much new. His parents died in that accident in Osaka back in August–you remember, the gas main in the park. They're living together–but everyone knows _that_.  And he was seen with Martin Tyler at the Blue Flamingo Saturday.'

'First Mariko Nodara, now Martin Tyler? How does such a dorky-looking guy like him get to be with all the stars?'

'Who knows? Maybe his parents used to be their housekeepers or something.'

Venomous creatures. The language hath changed much, but not their speech. The ladies at court ofttimes spoke thus of one who was absent. _They can say what they want; no one believes them anyway._

[People believe what they want to believe.] Truly. Even the basest of innuendoes may find sympathetic ears.

I sank into a steaming bath when I got home to get the smell of acetone off my skin. The teacher had been a little clumsy with a couple of demonstrations and some of the liquid had splashed on me. After about half an hour, the smell was gone, my hide was red, and I was half-asleep. A sudden draft brought me closer to wakefulness. I turned my head to see Satoka moving through the mist towards me. 'Mind if I join you?'

I moved mover and she climbed in. 'Remember the last time we were in here?'

'How can I forget?' I smiled wryly. I could see where she was going with it.

'We didn't have time to do anything then, but we have all the time in the world now.' She rolled on top of me and leaned in for a kiss. I reached out to pull her closer and gave her what she wanted.

Later–much later–I got out in a dreamy half-daze. Satoka had already left to hunt Invaders. The floor was covered in about half an inch of water; I slipped and almost hit my head on the sink. [Makin' love in the afternoon/ To Cecilia, up in my bedroom/ I got up to wash my face/ When I got back to bed, someone'd taken my place.] _You just had to sing that one, don't you? Can't you ever sing something that's not depressing?_

[Probably not. I wasn't watching, in case you were wondering. Be careful, though. Her type can be a bit difficult to shake off after something like this.] _I don't plan to 'shake her off.'_ 'Twould be most unchivalrous of thee to do so at this point. Moreover, her father would be compelled to take stern measures, and rightfully so. 

[How's this song? Tonight, you're mine completely/You gave your love so sweetly/Tonight the light of love is in your eyes/ but, will you still love me tomorrow?] _Alex! Knock it off with the damn songs already! He left a rather (affectedly) hurt silence behind._

'Let's go out tonight,' Satoka suggested over breakfast Thursday.

'Why tonight?'

'Why not?' She was right–I had nothing better to do. I gave her a small smile.

'Why not?' It was Halloween and the city dressed like it–quite a few people wore costumes of some sort, though I recognized a few as otaku who dressed that way everyday. Despite the fact that we were on a date, I carried my mother's gun under my jacket. We had dinner at a small restaurant one of Satoka's friends had recommended. The portions were a bit small, but the food was wonderful. I ordered duck and mushrooms while she had a squid and vegetable stew. Afterwards, we watched one of the innumerable slasher movies released for the season. I wanted a refund after it ended.

'Wanna go home?' I asked, ready to wash the movie out of my mind with liquor.

'The night's still young. Let's go there.' She pulled me towards a park down the street. Strangely, it was deserted despite the early hour. 'Ugh. What's that smell?'

I noticed it a moment later–a foetid odor, like roadkill left too long on the curb. A number of peculiar depressions and dark stains dotted the ground around us. As we approached one curiously, a dozen zombies burst from the earth and shambled towards us. I drew my silver pistol and blew the head off the closest one, but it kept coming. The arms came off next and twitched before becoming still. Satoka drew her giant sword from the air and shredded the zombies around her. 

A second wave of zombies appeared on the hill in front of us before the first had finished falling to earth. I grabbed Satoka by the shoulder to keep her from charging into the rotting phalanx. 'We stand a better chance if we fight together. Leo, come forth!'

The presence of that Grail-blessed armour caused the zombies to falter for a moment, but it seemed some external will drove them on again. The sword gave off a faint light and seemed to burn the undead when it struck. The hiss of burning flesh and black smoke issued from the wounds. Satoka's massive blade slashed through torsos and limbs alike, leaving a trail of decaying giblets behind her.

'Help me!!!!' Miu ran up, pursued by a zombie a few yards behind her. _Athena, guide my hand._ I drew my dagger and threw side-armed. It sank into the creature's skull and it fell with a soundless scream. Behind it, Ayane faced a rank of putrid warriors in half-rusted armour. She swept her arms across them twice and fire engulfed them. She turned and strode calmly towards me, retrieving my dagger on the way. A pair of cellphone screens flickered and died behind her.

'What are you doing here?' demanded Satoka.

'I detected an odd energy signature in this area–not quite an IPW reading, but not natural, either. We came to investigate.' Ayane was as deadpan as ever. 'It seems to be centered fifty yards from us in that direction.' 

When we reached the spot Ayane had pointed out, we found stone steps leading down into a dark pit. They appeared fresh-hewn and the earth newly-turned. 'Ayane, Miu, I think you two should stay above or go back. Those imitation Gates can be dangerous in close quarters, and it looks pretty tight down there. The Gate of Flight will be useless underground, and Wind can have odd effects in tight spaces.'

'Why don't you just give me your gun, then?' asked Miu.

'Have you ever fired a gun?' She shook her head. 'They don't hurt those things and a gun is worse than useless if you don't know how to use it.'

'Are you just trying to get Satoka alone in the dark?' The helm hid my flush–that was the last thing I expected Ayane to ever say.

'No, I'm trying to keep you from getting yourselves killed. Satoka and I are the only ones who stand much of a chance of getting to the bottom of this with our powers.'

'You think of me as dead weight, don't you?' Miu began crying.

'No, that's not how I feel.' It was. 'Fine. You two can come along. Here, Miu, take this. It's pretty light and those monsters don't seem to like it much. Just make sure you're stabbing in the right direction.' I handed her my dagger and descended the stairs with sword in hand. Ayane followed, then Miu clutching the dagger. Satoka brought up the rear with her sword slung over her shoulder. The stairs were dry, but narrow and dark. Ayane switched on a cellphone; the backlit buttons were as bright as any flashlight. The stairs gave out on a long, dim tunnel filled with the foetid odor of death. As we advanced, I noticed a red flicker ahead of us. Further on, it resolved into an arch with a flame-lit chamber beyond. A squad of relatively fresh zombies burst from the walls around us a few yards from the arch.

Miu screamed and slashed the air in panic. Satoka parried her wilder swings as she cut down the decaying bodies around her. I charged free, almost to the arch, then turned and decapitated three zombies as they turned. Two more lay at Miu's feet. Assorted limbs and gobbets of flesh were strewn about Satoka. We paused to catch out breaths before passing through the arch.

Beyond lay a great square chamber with several tunnels leading from it. A fire burned on a hearth to our right. A figure in black armour stood before the flames. A hole gaped in the center of his chest, large enough to see the flames through it. That incest-spawned bastard still walks this earth?! But his father laid him low on the field where he received his death-stroke!

The armoured obscenity spoke in a hollow voice, pointing at the girls beside me. 'So, Sir Galahad, hast thou abandoned thine chaste ways at last? And so many at once!' _Calm down, Galahad. I gave him control of my voice._

'Still a coward, I see, Sir Mordred. Thou knowst mine valour and mine devotion to protecting God's demesnes. Such as thou are an abomination in His eyes. Defend thyself!' I charged, but Mordred parried and forced me back. His black sword drew sparks from my blade as they clashed.

'Thine skill has left thee in thine debauches, Sir Galahad. But I learned much of my mother and aunt in life, and more from others since that life ended. Behold! Sotorrh ga Kresh!' A wave of utter darkness washed over us from his upraised hand. I instinctively raised my shield. When the darkness had passed, Miu, Ayane, and Satoka were unconscious on the floor, breathing shallowly. 'Fear not for thine harem. They shall presently arise to eternal life by my side. Yea, all the world shall soon bow to me, Mordred, King of the Dead!'

'Thine father's realm lies in far Britain. Why art thou here, skulking beneath the earth?'

'In recent years I have become aware of a great power that lies hidden in this land. Some artifice of Merlin's, perhaps, wrought in the wandering years of his youth. Many hidden paths run through the deep places of the world, and I am their master. My servants have come to me from all the nations of the world. _Die Totten ritten Schnell, as they say.'_

'Thou art an affront to God by birth, life, and Undeath. To the uttermost pit with thee!' I charged with my sword held high in both hands, shield before me. My first stroke was aimed at Mordred's right shoulder. He parried and retreated a step. I stabbed at his stomach, piercing his shield but no the armour. He countered with a blow to my head. I ducked and rolled away, ripping his shield in half as I did so. Mordred stabbed at me as I climbed to my feet; I rammed my knee into his black visor as he stooped. I cannot remember how long we traded strokes underground, but finally, I feinted a thrust at his heart. He parried by instinct though he could no longer be harmed by such an attack, and I brought my sword around to strike his neck. The dark helm clanked when it hit the ground; white pieces of bone bounced free as it rolled.

Satoka, Miu, and Ayane still lay unconscious on the stone floor. _Great. How am I supposed to get them out of here…hmmmm. Maybe I can use an imitation Gate of Healing._ Hast thou forgotten the Sangreal's power that lies in thine hands?

_It is the power of your God, not mine._ I gave him control again. He rested the sword on the palms and held it over the girls. 'Almighty Lord, Thine children lie stricken by foul magics. Shew forth Thine mercy and raise them up.' A brilliant light flared from the sword and the room was filled with an indescribably sweet scent–not quite floral or fruity, just beautiful. When the light passed, the girls picked themselves up groggily.

'What was that?' asked Satoka.

'Mordred, bastard son of King Arthur. He was admitted to the Round Table, but later led an insurrection against Arthur. The two met under a flag of truce on the Field of Camden. Each party of knights was under orders to attack if anyone in the other army drew his sword. One knight saw an adder about to strike him, and drew his sword to defend himself. Arthur slew Mordred in the ensuing battle–he thrust a spear through Mordred's chest–but was himself mortally wounded. The tales say that Arthur was taken to Avalon for healing and that he rests there until he is needed again. I am not sure how Mordred managed to rise again, nor how or why he came to Japan.'

'Let's just get out of here. I can't believe I'm not going to get paid for dealing with those things.'

'We should seal the steps after we get back to the surface. An imitation Gate of Explosion should be enough. Hopefully, they won't dig too deep while restoring the landscaping.' Ayane suggested.

I spent more than a few hours in the tub that night…the zombies' stench and slime were very stubborn. Then I had to clean the tub after we'd both taken baths.

**To Silent Knight**: I agree with you, but I have no control whatsoever over what reviewers leave. I cannot remove signed reviews, nor do I wish to 'ignore' anyone since I think everyone's entitled to express an 'opinion' on my stories, however inane or nonexistent they may be. About your issues with the narrator (his name will be in the next chapter if you look for it), I'm simply not a people person so I can't judge emotions too well. As for Satoka, this is just another side of her that doesn't show up in the OVA.

**Notes: **

**General–If  I sound like an arrogant prick when I answer questions, it's probably because I am one. There are certain things I expect to be common knowledge…like the fact that Kyoto is a real city. On that note, highlighting a word and hitting 'd' will bring up a dictionary entry if you're reading this on fanfiction.net.**

This story has the bit in its teeth now and I'm just hanging on for the ride. I never intended for quite a few of the incidents in this chapter to occur. But they did anyway.

**Explanations and random stuff:  'Connexion'=Connection; it's an English spelling of the word that looks cooler**

I'm not sure if Japanese troops ever got to Szechuan in the 30s and 40s, but all of China was pretty screwed up during those years. It's not an uncommon story from that time–people fleeing to Taiwan ahead of the Communists. Wasn't the best of places in those days, but it's better than execution, no? Taipei and Tainan are two cities on Taiwan (an island off the coast of Fujian): one on the northern end, one on the southern. Oh, and Szechaun is a province in southern China; very famous for hot and spicy food.

Yes, that singer is fictional. Any resemblance to a real person is purely coincidental. The idea is that he's a minor American rocker with a somewhat larger Japanese fanbase.

I have no idea what the Japanese do for Halloween…probably just market pumpkin soda or something like that.

Incidentally, the olive tree is sacred to Athena. She created the thing back in the days of Athens' founding…the people wanted a patron god and chose between Athena and Poseidon. Poseidon created either a horse or a spring of salt water. Athena created the olive…edible, source of oil, great thing. I personally don't like them much unless they're on a pizza. Ares is her half-brother (gods don't have to obey the normal laws about incest…Zeus and Hera are brother and sister, as were their parents); he's also a war god, representing the blood-thirsty and gory side of war. No one likes him much, though Aphrodite does sleep with him…her husband Hephaestus caught them in a net once, as related in the _Odyssey  (I forget which book…I'll look it up later). I know that Athena is probably a bit out of character in this fic, but she does have a gentler side as the patroness of crafts (especially weaving)._

'Foetid'=fetid; old spelling, kinda like 'foetus' for fetus. Lovecraft favours this variant…and it does look cooler.

Alex's songs:  1)'I Don't Want to Talk About it' by Rod Stewart   2)'Cecilia' by Simon and Garfunkel     3)'Will you Still Love me Tomorrow?' by the Four Seasons (at least, I have their version of it; the Nylons, Dusty Springfield, Bryan Ferry, Cliff Richard, Code Red, Debbie Gibson, and Claudia Church have also done it; I'm not sure who did it first…artist list from lyrics.astraweb.com search)

That bit of German is a quote from _Dracula (the novel, not the movie)…it's something that one of Harker's fellow passengers says in the coach as he's waiting for Dracula's carriage to pick him up in the Borgo Pass at the beginning of the book. It means 'The dead travel swiftly.'_

For those of you who care, Mordred (according to Sir Thomas Mallory's _Le Morte d'Arthur_) was the son of Arthur and his half-sister Morgawse. Arthur didn't know she was related to him at the time. Mordred was born on May Eve or May Day (I forget which) and Arthur ordered the death of all babies born that day since Merlin foretold that one of them would kill him one day…Mordred survived.

Next chapter: I clear up everything I've been fuzzy on so far…and a Christmas trip to Taipei (I haven't been there in over fifteen years, so don't expect too much detail).


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